Dance with the Devil
by Alyssa Blackbourn
Summary: Please read the author's note. Neal's daughter has a new friend, and the danger has never been greater. How long can the crew dance with the devil before they earn a one-way ticket to hell?
1. The Mona Lisa

_**Dear Readers: If you want these characters to make sense, please read **_**Her Father's Daughter, Friends Bring Out The Best, False Assumptions, _and_ Mechanical Failure_ frist. They are the foundations of these characters. Enjoy, and please, tell me how I did, because I'm not sure if I should really continue..._**

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><p><em>"Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold, dead eyes, stealing the life of mine..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Dance with the Devil"<em>

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><p>"Good morning, Peter," Neal said cheerfully as he strode into the office on Thursday morning.<p>

"You're in a good mood," Peter observed.

"Tomorrow's Friday," Neal said simply, folding himself into his rolling desk chair.

"Right," Peter nodded. "You get to see Jessica this weekend, don't you?"

"Yup," Neal confirmed with a smile. "First time in two weeks."

"She feeling better?" Peter asked. Jessica had come down with the flu and hadn't been well enough to travel for the past two weekends.

Neal nodded, "Her fever is gone, and she went back to school on Tuesday."

"Good," Peter approved with a nod and a smile. He liked the influence the ten-year-old had on the conman.

"Excuse me," Peter and Neal turned to see a young man standing before them. Hell, he was just a kid; he couldn't have been older than eighteen. He had short, thick, spiky light brown hair and ice blue eyes that looked on edge, nervous, scared. "I'm looking for Agent Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey."

"That would be us," Neal smiled, looking the kid over with a scrutinizing gaze, taking in the sight of his loose hoodie, his even-looser jeans, and his sneakers. The conman stood up, flashing one of his award winning smiles as he extended a hand towards him. "Neal Caffrey."

"Luc Hale," the teen introduced himself, shaking his hand firmly. "I'm a friend of Jessica's."

"I've heard of you," Neal nodded. Jessica met him at one of her art shows. They lived in the same building, and now he watched her when Rebecca had to work late. Jessica absolutely adored him. He helped her with her art shows, picking subjects to draw and paint. Rebecca thought very highly of him, too. Neal had not yet gotten the pleasure of meeting him face-to-face.

"What can we do for you, Luc?" Peter asked as he shook the boy's hand.

Luc glanced around. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked at last.

Peter and Neal exchanged glances, then the agent nodded. "Follow me," he commanded. He and Neal led Luc through the bullpen and into the FBI man's office. Neal leaned against the window behind Peter's desk and Luc took a seat in the chair in front of the desk as Peter closed the door and sat down in his chair.

"So, what's the problem, Luc?" the FBI man questioned.

Luc hesitated, obviously not wanting to admit what he was about to. Finally, he let out a sigh. "I'm in a little trouble," he confessed at last.

Neal studied the young man, intrigued. "What kind of trouble?"

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><p><em>Luc stood beside Jessica, leaning against the picnic table behind him, holding Shadow's leash in his hand, watching as the little girl worked on her art project: she was to copy a famous painting—in her case, the <em>Mona Lisa_—and add her own twist on it. Jessi had decided to sketch herself and Shadow into the picture. Right now, she was almost done with the _Mona Lisa_ portion of the assignment._

"_Hey, Luc!" Luc turned when he heard someone call his name, and instantly stiffened. A man with black hair and green eyes that shone with a false kindness that looked like a threat was walking towards him. Beside him, Shadow, now fully grown, growled low in his throat._

"_Shadow!" Jessica scolded._

_Luc chuckled. "Good boy," he muttered at the Retriever, smoothing his head. The man nodded at the teen, calling him over._

"_Hey, Jessi, I'll be right back, ok?" Luc said as he tied Shadow's leash to the picnic table._

"_Ok," Jessica agreed, not looking up from her work._

_Luc hesitated, then made his way over to the man. "Matt," he nodded with forced respect. _

"_You've been avoiding me," It wasn't a question._

"_I'm not going to do it," Luc said firmly._

"_Actually, Luc, yes, you are," Matt grinned. _

"_No, I'm not," Luc shook his head. "I'm not a criminal, ok? Unlike you, I have a moral code. And my moral code says that I cannot help you bypass the museum's security system so you can steal a painting. I'm not going to do it. I refuse."_

"_See, you don't get how this works, kid," Matt's words had a threat laced into them. "You don't get to refuse. You are the best computer geek I could find on such short notice. This whole thing hinges on what you bring to the table. You don't get to back out."_

"_How can I back out of something I never agreed to do in the first place?" Luc challenged. _

_Before Matt could answer, the wind picked up, gusting across the flat area they stood in. Behind him, Luc heard Jessica scream, and turned to see what happened. The wind had caused her project to blow away from her. It was coming towards them, fluttering in the wind. Matt's hand reflexively shot out, snatching it from the air. He held it in his hands, examining it, as Jessica came running over._

_Matt studied the picture, looking from the printed picture of the _Mona Lisa_ attached to it, to Jessica's drawing, and back. The two were virtually identical._

"_Thanks for catching that," Jessica said breathlessly, coming to a stop beside Luc. "I don't know what I would have done if I had to start over."_

"_No problem," Matt said with a charismatic smile. Then he returned his attention to the drawing. "Did you draw this?" he asked at last._

_Jessica nodded. "Yeah, it's my art assignment," she told him._

"_It's excellent," the criminal approved._

"_Thank you," Jessica grinned, blushing._

_Matt handed the drawing back to her, and Jessica went back to the table. Matt watched her go with a smile, then turned to Luc._

"_You've been holding out on me," he said with a plotting grin._

_Luc's eyes widened. "No," he said firmly. "No. She's not getting involved. She's ten years old for God's sake!"_

"_Yeah, she's ten years old, and she's one of the best forgers I've ever seen!" Matt exclaimed. "And I mean right up there with the best of the best. I'm talking...I'm talking Neal Caffrey good."_

_Luc bit back a smile, marveling at the criminal's choice of conman for comparison, considering that Neal Caffrey was her father._

"_She's not getting involved," Luc said firmly. "Look, I'll...I'll do what you want, but I'm not letting you drag her into this."_

"_Too late, Luc," Matt said mischievously. "She has already captured my interest."_

"_I'm not going to let you do this to her," Luc growled furiously. "She's been through enough."_

"_Really?" Matt snorted, obviously not believing that a little girl would have had to deal with anything more traumatic than the death of a goldfish. "What has she been through before? Did she skin her knee or something?"_

"_She's almost died more than once," Luc snapped. "Her life has already been put into danger by scumbags like you, and I'm not going to let it happen to her again. She doesn't deserve it. She's just a little girl."_

"_Look, Luc," Matt sighed. "I like you and all, but I don't appreciate it when people tell me no."_

"_Well too bad," Luc said boldly, even though his heart pounded with fear, "because that is exactly what I'm doing." With that, he began to turn and walk away. Matt's hand reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him._

"_Hey, kid," he growled. "I don't think you get this. You don't get to say no, and neither does she. I don't care how you get her to do it, but you better get her to forge a painting for me. If not, I'll kill you both."_

_With that, the criminal turned and stormed off, leaving Luc alone._

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><p>Luc finished his story, recounting the events of the past couple of days, and waited for what they were going to say to him, expecting the worst.<p>

"Which painting did he want you to help him steal?" Peter asked, all-business.

"It's called _Bal du moulin de la Galette,_" Luc told them, his French impeccable. "It was painted in 1876 by Pierre-Auguste Renoir."

"Do you know it?" Peter asked Neal over his shoulder.

The consultant nodded, "Yeah. It's not really my taste, but it's valued at around $136.4 million."

"Yeah, and it's normally on display in Paris, but for about five months, it will be here, in the US...in DC, to be exact," Luc told them.

"How did this guy find you?" Peter questioned.

"Well, I work at a bank as...well, there's a really long, complicated name for it, but essentially, I'm a computer geek who helps make sure their security system stays up," Luc explained. "They were trying to get in to our account information. They tried to hack us. So, I back-hacked them, and crashed their entire system," the teen smirked with satisfaction, "Anyway, it didn't take much to figure out that it was me. I was the only one who was working that shift." Luc sighed. "Look, I really need your help with this. I do not want to help this guy. It's not just Jessica he's threatened; he's threatened my family, too. My dad ran out on us when I was thirteen, right after my little brother was born. It's just me, my mom, and Collin now. And he said that if I didn't help him, he'd kill them all. I mean...what am I supposed to do...?" The teen's voice sounded helpless.

Peter and Neal exchanged glances.

"You did the right thing, coming to us," Peter assured him.

"I think it's a good idea if you and your family stay in protective custody while we sort this out," Neal spoke up.

"I agree," Peter nodded.

Luc let out a weary sigh. "Yeah, I should have expected that my whole 'not worrying them' thing wasn't going to last," he said softly.

Peter smiled encouragingly. "It's gonna be ok, kid," he assured him. "I'll call some friends of mine in the DC office and we'll track down your family."

"Peter," Neal spoke up.

"Yeah, Neal, they'll pick up Rebecca and Jessica, too," Peter nodded, reading the consultant's mind. Neal sighed and nodded in thanks.

"Rebecca's gonna be so pissed at me..." Neal muttered.

"Now, Luc," Peter continued, "do you think you could give us a description of Matt?"

The teenager nodded.

"Ok, then we're going to get you set up with a sketch artist," Peter said, picking up the phone and making the calls he needed to make.

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><p>Luc sat at Neal's desk, glancing around the room, fidgeting nervously as Neal and Peter talked above in the FBI man's office. Guilt was eating at his heart. Because of him, his family had been ripped from their lives. His mom would have been working. Collin would have been in preschool. Now, according to Peter and Neal, they were with a couple of FBI agents in a safe house in DC. Collin was probably scared out of his mind. His mom was probably worried about him. He was supposed to protect them, and he was doing a seriously crappy job.<p>

His phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to jump. Calming down, he pulled his phone out and glanced at the screen. He didn't recognize the number, but curiosity made him answer anyway.

"Hello?" he said into the phone. When the person on the other end tried to speak, Luc couldn't understand them. "Hello? Who is this? I can't hear you, hold on," Luc made his way into the hallway, where he could find a much better cell phone signal. The teenager let out a sigh, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Now, who is this?"

"How does it feel to be an orphan, Luc?" The voice on the other end of the line sent a chill down his spine.

"Matt?" Luc choked. "How did you get my number?"

"It was in your mother's phone," the criminal chuckled.

"Where is she?" Luc demanded.

"Oh, I'm afraid that dear Sasha and her FBI detail are no longer with us," Luc's breath caught in his throat, and his heart seemed to go still as the color drained from his face.

"You called the cops on us, Luc," Matt continued. "You should have known this would happen."

"Where's Collin?" Luc asked, his voice frantic.

"Oh, don't worry, Luc," Matt's voice was full of false reassurance. "The little squirt is fine. I'm sure he's missing his big brother right now, though."

Luc let out a shaking breath, tears gathering in his eyes. "What do I have to do?" he asked finally, sounding crushed and defeated.

"Attaboy, Luc," Matt chuckled. "Here's what I want you to do..."


	2. Problem

_**Thanks so much for your reviews, guys! They really mean a lot! Sorry this is a shorter one, I promise the next one will be a little more satisfying.**_

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><p><em>"Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight. Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Dance with the Devil"<em>

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><p>Neal made his way down the street toward his home. Peter told him that Rebecca and Jessica would be there by then, and since there wasn't much they could do until they got more information on their suspects, Peter had let him go home. Luc would be joining his family as soon as the FBI agent in charge of them checked in at their safe house. The consultant looked around and spotted the two agents who were sitting on his house. According to Peter, there was one more inside with Rebecca and Jessica.<p>

The consultant made his way through his front door with a sigh, knowing he was going to get an earful when Rebecca saw him. Neal climbed the four flights of stairs up to his apartment, and paused before opening his door wide.

The first thing he saw was Jessica, sitting at the kitchen table, her back to the door, drawing something. Then he noticed a man standing next to her, looking over her shoulder. Then, finally, he noticed Rebecca hovering near her daughter, her body language tense and nervous. This made Neal a little uneasy.

Rebecca noticed his arrival first. "Hi, Neal," she said with a forced smile.

At the sound of her father's name, Jessica dropped her pencil and spun around in her chair. When she saw him, she smiled widely and hopped down from her chair, dashing over to him.

"Daddy!" she cried, grinning from ear to ear. Neal smiled and scooped her up in his arms.

"Hey, Jessi," he greeted her. "How's it going?"

"Great," Jessica said excitedly. "My art teacher says she wants to feature some of my drawings in the art show at the high school with all the older kids' work!"

"That's fantastic, Jessica," Neal said sincerely, his eyes shining with pride. "I am so proud of you!"

"Do you think you could come see the show?" she asked hopefully.

Neal chuckled. "I'll ask Peter, ok?" he smiled. Jessica nodded in agreement, and the conman set her down. He noticed Shadow curled up at the foot of his bed, fast asleep, and frowned, realizing how odd it was. Shadow always stayed by Jessica's side when she was meeting a new person, FBI agent or not. As Jessica dashed back to her seat to continue working, Neal turned his attention to the man in the room.

"Hi, Neal," the man greeted him. Neal's heart sped up a little bit. This man looked just like the sketch Luc had given them of Matt. "Can we talk outside?"

"Ah..." Neal glanced at Rebecca, who looked at him with wide, terrified eyes, then at Jessica, who was hard at work and didn't seem to be paying any attention to what was going on around her. "Sure," he agreed at last. The two men left the apartment and closed the door behind them.

"Wow," Matt sighed, looking the con man up and down. "I can't believe I'm actually meeting Neal Caffrey. I'm a big fan, I have to say."

"Thanks," Neal smiled uncomfortably.

"Well, I guess I'll get to the point," Matt continued. "I know you've talked to Luc, so I'm sure you know what I want. I'm sure you also know that I was planning on using little Jessica to get it."

"If you touch her, I swear to God..." Neal's eyes burned with a protective rage.

Matt chuckled. "Relax, Neal," he soothed. "There's another way, as I realized as soon as I discovered that _you_ were Jessica's father."

It wasn't hard to see where he was going with the conversation.

"No," Neal refused. "No. I'm not doing it."

"Oh, come on, Neal," Matt frowned. "Just one little painting. I'll even cut you in on the profits."

"I said no," Neal repeated firmly. "I'm not going to forge the painting for you."

Matt sighed. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this," he said regretfully.

"Do what?" the conman asked nervously.

"Here are your options, Mr. Caffrey," Matt began, his eyes stony. "Either you can do it, or Jessica can. Got it?"

Neal's jaw set. He looked at the man before him with anger in his eyes. But he knew he had no choice. "Alright," he agreed at last. "I'll do it."

"I thought so," Matt smiled. "Come on," he gestured to the door, and Neal pushed it open.

"We're going to take Jessica with us, ok, Neal?" Matt whispered, although it wasn't really a question.

"What about Rebecca?" Neal whispered back, glancing nervously at her as she sat beside Jessica at the table.

"Rebecca is going to stay here," Matt smiled. "Come with me." The criminal walked over to Rebecca and grabbed her arm gently, guiding her into Neal's closet. Neal followed close behind, meeting Rebecca's terrified glances with his apologetic eyes. Matt closed the door after Rebecca had gone inside and locked it after her.

Matt turned back to Neal. "Let's go."

Neal nodded hesitantly and made his way over to Jessica. "Hey, Jessi," his daughter looked up from her art project to meet his eyes. "Let's go for a ride, ok?"

"Ok, Daddy," Jessica agreed, gathering her stuff. Then she paused and frowned. "Where's mommy?"

"Ah..." Neal hesitated, all too aware of Matt's eyes burning holes into his back. "Mommy's going to stay here, ok, sweetie?"

The young girl hesitated, then nodded, accepting his explanation. She placed her art project in her backpack that rested on the table and zipped it closed, slinging it onto her shoulders. Then the three of them made their way outside and into a car parked on the curb. Neal looked to the FBI car for help, but it was then that he realized that the FBI men inside were unconscious.

"Hey, Jessi," Neal said over his shoulder to his daughter as they got inside. "Do you have your iPod?"

"Yeah," Jessica nodded.

"Why don't you listen to it?" Neal suggested. Jessica shrugged and put in her ear phones, drowning out any outside noise as music rushed to meet her ears.

Once he was sure Jessica couldn't hear them, Neal turned to Matt.

"Where are we going?" he demanded, his heart racing.

"Be patient, Neal," Matt scolded as he pulled into New York traffic. The killer reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife. He handed it to the conman, "Cut off your anklet."

Neal hesitated, then bent down and sliced through the plastic securing his anklet to his ankle.

"Good, Neal," Matt approved, holding out his hand for the knife. Neal folded the knife closed and handed it back to his captor. "Now give me your cell phone."

The conman clenched his teeth together, wanting nothing more than to tell the bastard off. But after a moment, Neal obediently reached into his jacket pocket and produced his cell phone. Matt took it from him and turned it off before shoving it into his own pocket.

Neal sat back in his seat, his stomach doing flip-flops. How could he have let this happen to Jessica again? Maybe Rebecca was right to take her away. Then again, it did seem like no matter where she went...trouble just seemed to find her. Unfortunately, she was more like him than they had originally thought...

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><p>"Agent Burke," Peter sighed when he answered his phone.<p>

"Agent Burke," the voice on the other end of the line was young and tired. "This is David Banks at the US Marshal's office. I'm just calling to tell you that Neal Caffrey's tracking data has gone offline."

"What?" Peter was shocked. "That doesn't make any sense..."

"Should I deploy units to his last known location?" Banks asked.

"No," Peter shook his head. "Just, um...what was his last known location?"

"His home," Banks replied readily.

"Great, thanks," Peter said wearily. With that, he hung up and left his office.

"Diana," Diana turned when she heard her boss call her name. "Keep an eye on Luc while I'm gone, ok?" Luc was still sitting at Neal's desk, looking worried.

"Where are you going?" Diana asked.

"I'll explain later," Peter sighed as he made his way to the elevator. Half an hour later, he was making his way towards Neal's front door.

Peter reached up and rapped on the wooden door. "Neal?" he called. No answer. The FBI man tried the door handle and found it unlocked. The agent had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and drew his gun before pushing open the door.

"Neal?" Peter called again, clearing the room. He saw Shadow curled up at the foot of the bed, and soon realized that the dog was sedated.

"Peter!" the voice that came from the closet wasn't Neal's. "Peter, I'm in here!"

"Rebecca?" Peter blinked in confusion before making his way over to the closet door. He tried the handle and realized it was locked. It wasn't a problem, though; the key was in the lock. Peter quickly unlocked the door and Rebecca rushed out, shaking.

"Rebecca are you ok?" Peter asked, concerned, holstering his gun and putting his hands on her shoulders. "What happened?"

"He pretended he was FBI," Rebecca gasped. "He told me that if I didn't play along, then he was going to kill Jessi..."

"Rebecca, where are Neal and Jessica?" Peter questioned urgently.

"He has them," Rebecca sobbed. "He said something to Neal...he made him take Jessica with him..."

"Ok, hey, Rebecca, it's going to be ok, ok?" Peter looked her in the eye as he spoke, his voice steady and confident. "I'm going to get them back, ok?"

Rebecca nodded, tears running down her face. Peter pulled her into a hug and reached into his pocket to grab his phone, calling one of the numbers on his speed dial.

"Diana, it's me," Peter sighed. "We have a problem."


	3. One Phone Call

_**Hey guys! Listen, I thrive on reviews. The more I get, the more motivated I get to write, and the more motivated I get, the faster I write, and the faster I write, the more I post. So, please, guys, review as you read!**_

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><p><em>"Here I stand, helpless and left for dead..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Dance with the Devil"<em>

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><p>Neal, Jessica, and Matt had been driving for over an hour. The car was silent. Neal continuously glanced in the rearview mirror at Jessica as she gazed out the window, listening to her iPod. His body was wound like a spring. He couldn't relax. He could barely think. He knew one thing for sure: If he had anything to say about it, Jessica would never know what was really going on.<p>

Finally, Matt pulled into the driveway of a house about three or four miles from the city and put the car in park. He turned to Neal with a smile on his face.

"Let's go," he said excitedly, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. Neal took a deep breath and followed suit. Once outside, he opened the door for Jessica as she climbed out. The three of them made their way to the front door. Neal kept Jessica close to his side, resting a protective hand on her shoulder.

Matt unlocked the front door and motioned for Neal and Jessica to go inside. Neal guided his daughter through the doorway, all too aware of Matt following close behind.

"Daddy," Neal looked down when he heard Jessica's confused, wary voice. "What are we doing here?"

"Um..." Neal thought up a quick lie. "Peter wanted me to bring you here so that you'll be safe until this case we're working on is over."

"What about Mommy?" it was clear that the ten-year-old wasn't totally buying his story.

"She'll come later," Neal assured her. "She had to sort out some things at work."

Jessica nodded, buying his story. Matt nodded at Neal in approval, and led the pair down the hall, past the kitchen, and then around a corner to another hall. Matt pulled open one of the doors that decorated the hallway, motioning for Jessica to go inside. Neal looked at him as if he were about to object, but he held his tongue. The conman sighed wearily, once again asking himself why this always seemed to happen to them, and turned to his daughter.

"Why don't you wait in there, ok, Jessi?" He suggested, even though it really wasn't up for debate.

Jessica looked inside the room, taking in the sight of the small bed, table, chair, and TV. Something seemed off to her. She shook her head, looking up at her father with scared eyes.

"It's ok, Jessi," Neal assured her, giving her one of his award-winning smiles. "We'll be out of here soon. I promise. I have to talk with my friend, here, but I'll see you soon, ok?"

Jessica hesitated, then sighed, giving in, and headed inside the small room. She set her stuff down on the table and looked up just in time to see Neal wave goodbye before Matt closed the door, sealing her inside.

Matt slid a deadbolt in place, locking the young girl inside.

"Is that really necessary?" Neal protested.

"Yes," Matt's voice was cold. "Come on. Let me get you set up before my company arrives."

"Company?" Neal questioned. Matt didn't answer, making his way down the hall, away from Jessica's room. Neal followed close behind, memorizing everything he saw. Matt opened a door at the end of the hall that revealed a dark staircase going down. The killer flipped on a light, illuminating the space. It was a cellar.

"Come on," Matt nodded toward the stairs before starting down them. Neal followed quickly—too quickly, it seemed, because he missed a step and nearly fell to his death. The only thing that stopped him was Matt, grabbing his arm.

"Whoa," he chuckled. "Be careful, there, Neal. Don't want you to get hurt."

Neal's heart slowly began to calm down, and he nodded, steadying himself. The pair continued down the stairs. There was a canvas set up on an easel, the same size as the _Bal du moulin de la Galette._ There were paints in a bin beside it, and brushes, too.

"Well, you should have everything you need," Matt sighed, looking around. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything...and I'd better see some progress by the time I get back."

"Matt," Neal stopped him from vanishing up the stairs. "What company?"

"Luc," Matt told him after a moment. "He should be on his way here now."

"No," Neal shook his head. "Luc is going to be joining his family soon. Peter got them into protective custody."

Matt laughed out loud. "Yeah, not so protective."

Neal got visibly paler. "What did do you do?"

"Neal," Matt chuckled. "I wouldn't be able to get anything in life if I didn't use extreme measures sometimes. Look, Sasha Hale and her protection detail are dead. Little Collin is in a room similar to Jessica's. And Luc is ready to do anything I tell him. Everything is going according to planned...well, for the most part. Now get to it, will you?"

Neal watched him go, his heart racing. He knew he had to get out of there, and fast, or none of them ever would. Matt didn't seem like the type to leave loose ends.

The consultant reached into his pocket and smiled when he drew out his cell phone. He had picked Matt's pocket when he pretended to fall on the stairs. The conman glanced up the stairs one more time to make sure the door was closed, then moved into the far corner, next to the staircase, facing the wall so he was out of sight. Then he turned on his phone and quickly called Peter.

"Neal," Peter didn't waste time when he answered his friend's call. "Neal, what the hell?"

"Peter, you have to believe me," Neal said urgently. "I did not run. I swear to you, I did not run."

"I know you didn't, Neal," Peter told him, trying to calm him down. "We got Rebecca. She told us everything."

"How is she?" Neal asked, concerned.

"Honestly? Scared to death for you two," Peter sighed. Neal flinched.

"Can you tell her something for me?" Neal questioned pleadingly.

"Sure, what is it?" Peter agreed.

"Can you tell her I'm sorry?" Neal's guilt was evident in his voice. "You know, for being who I am, for not being able to protect her and Jessica from anything in my life, for continuously letting Jessica get caught up in my messes...for everything?"

"Neal, you have to know that none of that is your fault," Peter began.

"Peter," Neal cut him off. "Can you please just...tell her I said that?"

Peter let out a sigh. "Sure, Neal. I'll tell her. Now tell me what happened. Are you ok?"

"Yeah, Peter, I'm fine," Neal assured him, his voice just above a whisper. "Matt impersonated an FBI agent and told me that if I didn't forge the painting for him, then he'd make Jessica do it. I don't want her to have my life, Peter, I don't. So I had to go."

"I get it, Neal," Peter sighed.

"Now I'm pretty sure Jessica's just here to keep me in line..." Neal said with a weary sigh. He shook his head. "Peter, where is Luc?"

"He's back at the FBI," Peter sounded confused. "Why?"

"Are you sure?" Neal challenged.

"Well, no, I guess not...I'll call Jones later and ask," Peter promised.

"Peter, you have to call now," Neal told him urgently.

"Why? What's going on?" Peter questioned.

"Luc's mom is dead, Peter," Neal said seriously. "So is her FBI detail."

"What? How do you know?" Peter asked urgently.

"Matt told me. He has Collin in here somewhere and he's using him to make Luc do what he wants him to," the consultant explained.

"Ok, just hang in there, Neal, we're going to get you all out of there," Peter assured him. "Do you know where you are?"

"Yeah, I memorized the route," Neal told him proudly. "Ok, when we left the house, we took a right on—_oof!_" Neal was cut off when someone slammed him into the wall before him, pinning him there by the back of his neck. Whoever it was—Matt, more than likely—grabbed the phone from his hand.

"Hi, Peter?" Definitely Matt. "Yeah, Neal's going to have to call you back. Bye." Matt hung up the phone. Neal jumped when he heard him throw it against the ground with all his strength. The consultant could see it on the ground out of the corner of his eye. The screen was cracked, and there was no light coming from the device anymore. It was clear that Neal was in the market for a new phone.

Matt pulled the conman away from the wall and spun him around to face him before shoving him, hard, into the concrete wall. Neal's head snapped back against the cold surface, and he saw stars.

"Did I not make myself clear, Neal? Is that it?" Matt growled in his face. "Am I going to have to go get Jessica and clarify things?"

"No," Neal shook his head vigorously, his eyes wide with fear. "No, please, leave her out of this."

Matt smirked, his eyes still full of rage, and took a step back. Neal let out an uneasy breath, unsure what he would do next.

In one lightning motion, Matt punched Neal, hard, across the face. The impact was hard enough to make Neal stumble. The killer grabbed him and threw him back into the wall once more, then kneed him in the stomach once, twice, three times, and pushed him to the ground. Neal was having a lot of trouble breathing. But Matt wasn't done. Once the consultant was down, Matt started kicking him, as if Neal were a soccer ball and Matt was about to make the winning goal. By the time Matt had had enough, Neal's face was cut and bruised, his nose was bleeding, and he was trying to cough up blood, but he couldn't seem to draw air into his lungs.

Neal propped himself up on his forearms, struggling to breathe, as Matt knelt down beside him. Neal recognized the metallic sound of a gun being cocked, and felt the cold metal of the gun's muzzle as it was pressed into the back of his neck.

"Try anything else," he growled in the consultant's ear. He took out a pocket knife and held it in Neal's line of sight, "and I will take this knife, and slit your daughter's throat with it, just before I shoot you in that pretty face of yours. Got it?" Neal didn't respond; he was still struggling to get his breathing under control. Matt grabbed the back of his head and pushed it forward, slamming it into the hard concrete floor. Neal cried out, the sound weak, raw, and broken.

"I asked you a question, Caffrey," Matt snapped. "I expect an answer."

Neal struggled to form words, but whenever he tried, it just came out as a gasp. Finally, his diaphragm got a grip and he could once again breathe normally.

"I...I got it..." Neal managed, panting, coughing up blood.

Matt smiled. "Good." He flicked reengaged the safety on the gun in his hand and put the knife away before standing up. He grabbed a rag from beside the easel and tossed it down in front of the wounded man. "Now get cleaned up and get to work."

Neal waited until he heard Matt retreat up the stairs and through the basement door before he forced himself into a sitting position, gasping in pain at his broken ribs. He grabbed the rag from in front of him and held it under his nose as blood trickled from it. He was sure he didn't look too good. Now he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he didn't get everyone out of there before Matt got what he wanted, none of them were going to see the outside world again. Matt was going to kill them all.

He needed a plan, and he needed one now.


	4. Get it in Writing

_**Hey guys! Here's the next chapter! I hope you like it, and, as always, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, don't forget to REVIEW.**_

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><p><em>"And I'll survive, paranoid. I have lost the will to change. And I'm not proud, cold-blooded fake. I will shut the world away..." -Breaking Benjamin, "I Will Not Bow"<em>

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><p>Luc stood in front of the house where Matt was keeping his brother, his heart pounding. He took a deep breath, then walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. He heard movement inside, and then the door opened. The person standing in the doorway was not the person he expected to see. Instead of Matt, a man with light brown hair and blue eyes stood before him. He raised an eyebrow at the teen.<p>

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking at him doubtfully.

"It's ok, Nick," Luc recognized Matt's voice from somewhere behind him. He came into view, joining Nick at the door and standing by his side. "This is Luc. He's the one I told you about. He's going to get us past the museum security."

Nick nodded, and then the two criminals moved aside to let the teen inside. Luc hesitated, then walked into the house. Matt closed the door behind him. There was another man sitting on the couch in the living room. He was tall, with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Where is he?" Luc demanded. "Where's Collin?"

"Relax, Luc," Matt chuckled. "Your brother is fine."

"Listen," Luc growled, "I am not doing a thing for you until I see my brother."

Matt hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. Come with me."

Luc followed as Matt led him down a hall and to a white wooden door. He watched as the man who murdered his mother unlocked the door and pushed it open. Collin was lying on his stomach on the small bed, his eyes closed. He appeared to be asleep.

"Collin?" Luc made his way into the room and sat down on the bed, shaking the child's shoulder gently. Collin's tear-filled eyes opened, and he blinked. The five-year-old rubbed his bright blue eyes and sat up.

"Luc?" Collin asked sleepily.

"Hey, kiddo," Luc smiled.

"Did mommy go to the doctor?" Collin asked with a yawn.

Luc blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Mommy hurt herself," the child explained. "He said that if I was quiet he would call a doctor to help her."

Luc glanced back at Matt, glaring at the murderer. Matt simply shrugged, and Luc turned back to his little brother.

"Yeah, the doctor came," Luc lied. "But, um...Mommy's not coming home, Col..."

"Why not?" Collin asked, confused.

Luc let out a shaky breath, looking down for a moment. "Mommy's gone, Collin..." he told him finally.

"Gone like Daddy?" Collin questioned, his eye wide and shining with tears.

Luc hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, kiddo...she's gone like Daddy..." he confirmed.

It was clear that the five-year-old did not fully understand what was happening. Luc pulled him into a hug, blinking back tears.

"It's just us, now..." Luc said softly.

After a moment, Matt cleared his throat. When Luc turned to look at him, he nodded, telling him it was time to go. Luc reluctantly peeled his brother off of him.

"Ok," he sighed. "I have to go, but I'll be back soon, ok?"

Collin nodded sadly, and Luc stood up and made his way over to Matt and back out into the hallway. Matt closed the door behind him and locked Collin inside.

"Come on," Matt nodded down the hall, and together, the two of them walked down the hall to the basement door. Matt hesitated before opening the door.

"Wait here," the killed commanded, heading back the way he came and vanishing around the corner. He returned moments later with the man Luc had seen sitting on the couch by his side. He had a laptop in his hands. Luc blinked in surprise.

"Hey, that's my laptop," he stated, confused.

"Yeah," Matt confirmed. "Your mom was going to bring it to you. I thought I'd take it to you instead."

Luc flinched, but didn't say anything else as Matt opened the door and headed down the stairs. Luc followed, with the third man close behind. When they got down to the basement floor, they saw Neal sitting in front of a canvas, pencil in hand, sketching the faces of the _Bal du moulin de la Galette_ onto a canvas, using a photo for reference. Blood stained the skin under his nose, though smudged and faded, and bruises marred the left side of his face. The conman stopped working then they came down the stairs, and looked disappointed when he saw Luc.

"Neal?" Luc was shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Neal was understandably irritated. "I'm forging a painting for a jackass."

To Luc's surprise, Matt laughed at Neal's insult. The consultant shook his head and returned his attention to the canvas, sketching the scene from the painting with expert precision.

"Alright," Matt sighed. "Luc, you get started on the security stuff. Start getting a plan together. I don't want any issues when we go in, got it? That means if one sensor gets tripped, if we get caught by one security camera, if even one security guard gets suspicious—"

"Yeah, I get it," Luc cut him off, taking the laptop from his hands. "Provided you don't screw up, you'll get in and out with no interruptions."

"Good," Matt nodded. "You work over there," he indicated the table and two chairs in the corner of the room, which was the only furniture there apart from Neal's supplies. "Eric, here, is going to keep an eye on you, so don't even think about trying anything."

Luc shook his head, then headed over to the table, sliding into one of the chairs and opening the laptop. Neal glanced at the young man and noticed his wallpaper. It showed a boy who appeared to be a young Luc and an older man who Neal could only guess was his father. Neal felt a wave of pity wash over him. The kid's mother was dead. His father ran out on him after thirteen years together. It would have been bad enough if Luc had been a baby at the time, and he had never gotten to know the man, but no, he spent thirteen years with him. And then, out of the blue, he vanished. Now it was just him and Collin. Neal made a commitment at that moment: if he had anything to say about it, that kid was not going to have to lose anybody else. The man, Eric, took the other seat at the table, and Neal turned back to his work as Matt turned and started to head upstairs.

"Matt," Neal stopped the murderer in his tracks. "What's the point of doing this anymore, anyway? Peter knows what you're taking, he knows where you plan on taking it, and he knows when you plan on taking it. You can't win."

"Ah, but he doesn't," Matt looked excited. "Sure, he knows what I'm taking, but as for when and where...the painting doesn't come for another two days. After that, I have five months to make my move. He can't have surveillance on the museum for that long. And I don't even have to take it from the museum. I could take it on its way into the museum, on its way back to Paris, hell I could even go to Paris and steal it there if I wanted to. And if Luc does his job, we will be like ghosts. He won't know we're going in, and he won't know we were ever there."

"Peter's not an idiot," Neal informed him, leaning back and examining his work through narrowed eyes. "Believe me, whatever your plan is, he'll figure it out. Or, if he doesn't and you run, he will find you. You may think you'll be able to make a clean getaway, and, hey, maybe you will. But you will not be able to stay free for long. Peter will find you, no matter what you do. Take it from me, you can run as long as you want, but sooner or later, you're going to slip up, and when you do, Peter will be there to catch you."

"Yeah, sorry, Neal," Matt said with a half smile and a raised eyebrow. "I'm not afraid of some fed in a monkey suit."

Neal shrugged, erasing something on the canvas and trying again. "Suit yourself," he said indifferently. "But if Peter catches you—and he will, no matter how good you think you are—" Neal turned away from his work for the first time to look his captor in the eye, "don't say I didn't warn you."

"Duly noted," Matt nodded, rolling his eyes. "Now get back to work." He headed up the stairs, leaving Luc and Neal alone with Eric.

Neal glanced back at Luc. His muscles were tense as his fingers flew over the keyboard. His computer screen was covered in code—complete gibberish to Neal and Eric—the criminal was seated beside Luc—but as simple to understand as breathing to Luc.

Neal turned back to the canvas, glancing at the photo in his hand to see what he had to do next. He had almost finished sketching when Luc let out a frustrated cry.

"God damn it!" he growled, causing Neal to jump.

The conman winced in pain, then turned to the teenager behind him. "Luc?" he raised an eyebrow, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Luc sighed. "This is just really starting to piss me off..."

"What?" Neal asked, intrigued.

"Well, the museum has a pretty kick-ass firewall," Luc explained. "Actually, it has _several_ kick-ass firewalls. I'm trying to hack into their system, but I cannot get past the third firewall. The system always kicks me out and I have to start over."

"Do they know you're trying to get in?" Eric asked, his tone mildly threatening.

"No," Luc said firmly. "There are five levels of encryption. The museum doesn't get alerted that I'm trying to get in until after I break level three, and, provided I do it right, that's only if I get caught. If I break the encryption correctly, they will never know it was broken. But none of that matters if I have to keep starting over every five minutes!"

"Well, you better figure it out," Eric's tone was casual, but it sent a chill down both captives' spines just the same, "because if you don't, then we scrap the whole thing. And that means that all of you die."

"I'll get it, ok?" Luc said softly, his voice weary.

Eric shrugged, then turned to Neal. "Get back to work, Caffrey," he ordered.

Luc turned his attention back to the computer screen before him, Neal to the canvas, and soon both were hard at work once more.

Hours passed. Luc glanced at Eric. He was asleep in his chair. Good. His heart racing, Luc switched targets. Instead of trying to hack into the museum, he started working away at Peter's laptop. It wasn't hard to get in; he didn't exactly have Pentagon-level protection. Before long, he had total control over Peter's computer...

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><p>Peter sat at the kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him, files spread over ever spare inch of table space. They had identified the man in Luc's sketch as Matthew Daniel McCall. He was in and out of juvie was a kid for small stuff like breaking and entering, petty theft, and vandalism. After he turned eighteen, he pretty much dropped off the face of the earth. No credit cards, no driver's license, no tax returns, no employment record, nothing. No paper trail what-so-ever.<p>

Suddenly, a word document opened up on his laptop. Peter blinked in surprise. He knew he hadn't done that. He was shocked when words began typing themselves on the page. But he wasn't confused for long. The computer soon explained itself.

_Agent Burke, this is Luc. Sorry I hacked your computer. It was the only way I knew how to contact you without getting killed._

Peter blinked in surprise and admiration, then reached over and typed his own message:

_I think I can forgive you. Is everyone ok?_

_**Neal's a little beat up, but he's still breathing. He'll be fine. They're not going to kill us yet. They need us.**_

_I know. Neal told me. Do you know where you are?_

_**Yes.**_

_Well, don't keep me in suspense, kid. Where are you?_

_**I can't tell you. It's too risky. He's got eyes on the street; I saw the cameras when I came. If he sees you coming, we're all dead.**_

_You have to trust us, Luc. We can get you all out of there._

_**No you can't. We'll just have to find a different way. And by the way, don't try to trace this. I'm bouncing my IP all over the world. You'll never find me in time.**_

_Well, give me something, Luc._

_**There are three guys. Matt and two others, Nick and Eric. I don't have last names. Eric's with Neal and me. He's keeping an eye on us, making sure we're doing our jobs.**_

_Does he know we're talking?_

_**No. He's asleep in the chair next to me.**_

_Good. Look, Luc, you should be getting back to work, as much as it pains me to say it. I don't want you getting caught like Neal did._

_**You're probably right...**_

_Keep me informed whenever you can, ok, kid?_

_**Sounds good.**_

_Hang in there, Luc. We'll get you guys out of there, I promise._

_**Be careful, Peter. Now I have that in writing.**_

Peter smiled slightly at the screen. Then he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He promised that kid he'd get them out of there, he had to follow through. He was going to find Matthew David McCall if it was the last thing he ever did.

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><p><em><strong>Questions? Comments? Concerns? REVIEW!<strong>_


	5. In the Arms of the Angels

_**Hey, guys! Thanks so much for reading. This is one of my favorite chapters for several reasons...one of which is the ending is REALLY, REALLY mean...**_

_**Anyway, please, PLEASE review and tell me what you thought of it!**_

_**~Erika**_

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><p><em>"It's over. I didn't want to see it come to this. I wonder if I will ever see your face again" ... "It's simple; I know that I will suffer in the end..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Fade Away"<em>

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><p>Luc had just left Peter's computer and had returned to his assigned task when the basement door opened. Luc smacked Eric on the shoulder, waking him up. The guy was a bastard, and Luc hated him for helping Matt keep them there, but he didn't want Matt to shoot him, which he did not doubt he would do if he found Eric sleeping on the job. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing one wanted to witness. Eric looked just about to yell at the teen, but then he saw Matt come into view. Realizing what he had done, Eric instead looked at the young man in surprise, and nodded in gratitude. Luc nodded in recognition, and then returned his attention to the screen.<p>

Matt looked to Neal first. He stood behind the conman as he carefully painted a woman's face onto the canvas.

"Very good, Neal," the criminal approved. It appeared that Neal was almost done with the forgery. "Good to know I can count on you for rush jobs."

Neal stopped painting for a moment, his brush hovering above the canvas, but didn't say anything. After a heartbeat or two, he shook his head and got back to work.

Matt smiled slightly, then turned to look at Luc.

"How's it coming, kiddo?" he asked.

"Ok, first of all," he said boldly, turning towards the murderer and pointing at him for emphasis, "do not call me that ever again. And second of all," Luc trailed off, returning his attention to the screen. He pecked a few more keys on the keyboard. There was a cheerful tone, and then Luc leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I'm in."

Matt raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Seriously?" he didn't sound convinced.

"See for yourself," Luc gestured to the screen. Matt hesitated, then walked over to the table. Sure enough, Luc's screen showed the museum blueprints, all the security camera feeds, map showing all the sensors, everything.

"Way to go, Luc," Matt grinned. Luc flinched, not particularly proud of himself. He hated that he was actually helping this bastard. But he also didn't like the idea of getting the crap kicked out of him, so he kept his mouth shut.

To their left, Neal was just about done with his forgery. He added a few more key details, then put his brush down, "Done."

Matt turned to him in surprise. Then he grinned. "Alright, guys!" the murderer applauded them quickly. "I'm impressed. I knew I got the right guys for the job."

"Look, we've done what you asked," Neal sighed. "You don't need to keep us here anymore."

"Oh, yes, I do," Matt said seriously. "You're going to be staying here until after I get my painting. Besides, Luc has only gotten into the system. That doesn't mean that he has made sure we won't be caught. So, Neal, you just stay here like a good boy, and Luc, you do what you have to to make sure that we can get in and out of that museum without getting caught. Ok with everyone? Yeah, I thought so. Alright, get to it, Luc." With that, their captor turned and headed up the stairs.

Luc and Neal exchanged weary, worried glances, then Luc turned back to his screen and got to work...

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><p>Luc looked around his prison. The house was quiet. Neal was asleep in his chair in the corner. Eric was asleep beside him. The clock on his computer read 2:47 AM.<p>

Luc himself was exhausted. He hadn't slept more than sixteen hours total since Matt first made contact with him...about two weeks ago. But there was no time for sleep now. He almost had everything set up for Matt. He had recorded the empty museum from every camera, and was ready to play it back on an endless loop to hide the art thieves from the eyes of the security guards watching the cameras. Now he was looking at the layout of all the sensors and alarms in the museum, mapping out the path that would require the least amount of technical intervention; the less he intervened, the less likely it was that someone would get suspicious.

The young man stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes. He was falling asleep. He knew it. And he couldn't let it happen.

His exhaustion might have explained why he didn't notice Matt come down the stairs and stop behind him. He didn't notice a thing until Matt took his gun and whacked the seventeen-year-old in the side of his head. Luc cried out. The force was strong enough to knock him off of his chair. Luc's cry awakened both Neal and Eric.

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Luc?" Matt growled, rage in his eyes.

Luc was dazed. Blood poured from a gash in the back right side of his head. He could barely think straight. He couldn't see straight. He was on his hands and knees, trying to form a rational thought and failing miserably.

Matt's foot came out of nowhere, making contact with Luc's left temple. The teen once again cried out, sprawling out onto his back.

"Are you crazy?" Neal snapped, standing up from his chair and dropping to one knee beside the teen. "Luc, are you ok? Can you hear me?"

Luc didn't respond. It was just as well; Matt wasn't in a listening mood. Neal looked at him in horror as he cocked his gun and took aim at Luc's skull.

Neal leaned over the fallen teen, positioning himself between the two. "Matt, just...slow down, ok? Just think about this."

"Shut up, Neal," Matt snapped. His aim never wavered. "The kid hacked into your FBI buddy's computer and sent him a message."

"What?" Neal was shocked. Below him, Luc was hearing everything as if he were in a cave, listening to the echoes of everyone else's voices. His vision was cloudy. He groaned, reaching up a hand and rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah," Matt looked at Luc in disgust. "Little brat obviously didn't know I bugged his computer."

"Well did he tell him anything that would put you in danger of being caught?" Neal challenged.

"No, but that doesn't matter," Matt said coldly. "Luc has turned himself into a liability."

"And if you kill him, who's going to get you through that museum without tripping the alarms?" Neal challenged. "I sure as hell can't. You need him."

This caused Matt to stop. He knew the conman was right. Finally, he sighed, and lowered his gun. Neal let out a shaky sigh of relief as the murderer turned to Eric, who had been watching the exchange in silence.

Then, suddenly, before anyone could do anything, Matt raised the gun, aimed it at Eric's heart, and pulled the trigger. It was a direct hit; the would-be art thief was dead instantly.

Neal stared at the corpse, wide-eyed. "What the hell was that?" he gasped finally.

"He fell asleep on the job," Matt shrugged. "That's the reason this whole mess started."

Neal just stared at him, his gaze unblinking.

"Alright," Matt sighed, "can I trust you two to not do anything stupid while I'm gone? I already have Nick watching the little ones, so..." He didn't wait for an answer. "Good. Neal, when he's coherent, do me a favor and ask him how long it's going to take to get everything set up."

Neal watched as the murderer vanished up the stairs. Then he turned his attention to Luc. "Luc? Can you hear me?"

Luc groaned and blinked hard. After a moment, he nodded.

"Ok, good, how many fingers am I holding up?" the conman asked, holding three fingers in front of the young man's face.

Luc hesitated, blinking again. "Three," he muttered at last.

"Good," Neal nodded, "You should be fine." He stood up and walked over to the easel, grabbing a relatively clean rag from beside it before returning to the teen's side.

"Come on," Neal grabbed Luc's arm and helped him into a sitting position, propping him up against the wall beside Neal's chair. "Let me see your head," Neal commanded, turning Luc's head to get a look at the bleeding gash, staining his light brown hair and his t-shirt a deep red. He pressed the rag against the injury in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Luc winced in pain, but didn't complain.

"Neal?" he said after a long moment, glancing at the dead body slumped over beside his computer.

"Yeah?" Neal asked, gently taking the rag off too look at the injury. The bleeding was already slowing down.

"We're not getting out of here, are we?" the young man's voice was quiet, devoid of all hope.

"What are you talking about?" Neal denied, putting pressure on the gash once more. "Of course we are. Peter's going to find us and bring us home, just wait."

"Don't lie to me," Luc ordered, turning to look at his fellow prisoner.

Neal was silent, trying to figure out how to respond. Then he sighed. "I don't know anything for sure," he admitted. "But...to be completely honest...it doesn't look like it, no."

Luc nodded, looking down.

"But don't give up on it, ok?" Neal encouraged. "I wasn't lying when I said Peter was smart. We don't know how close he is. He could still find us."

"Do you really believe that?" Luc challenged.

"Yes," Neal said truthfully, his gaze unblinking. He sighed. "Most of the bleeding has stopped," he told him. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Luc hesitated, then nodded, leaning his head back against the concrete wall. He was asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes, exhaustion finally taking over.

Neal looked at Luc, then over at Eric's body, and sighed. They were going to need a miracle. He just really hoped Peter was close to figuring out where they were and could provide one...

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><p>Peter sat back in his chair with a sigh. They were so close. But without knowing the time that the robbery was going to take place, they were pretty much stuck. Luc hadn't been lying when he said that he was bouncing his IP address all over the world. It would take weeks to finally trace it back to him. They didn't have that kind of time.<p>

"Peter," the FBI man looked up when Jones poked his head into his office. "I got something I think you should see." Peter waved him in, and Jones made his way over to his colleague's desk, handing him a file. When Peter opened it, he blinked in surprise.

"See, I figured that McCall would have to case the museum," Jones explained. "And to do that, he'd probably have to get not just inside it, but also into the backstage and VIP areas. Which meant he'd have to work there. We didn't find this because we were only looking for Matthew McCall. We weren't looking for that guy."

The file showed the employment record for one Cody Harper, who was currently a security guard at the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC, working the day shift. Only, according to the photograph, this was not Cody Harper. It was Matthew McCall.

"Jones, you are a genius," Peter commended the fellow agent. Jones smiled. "Alright, I'm going to bet that the robbery is going to take place sometime in the next week," Peter began.

"How can you tell?" Jones asked, surprised.

"Well, he's been working there for two months," Peter pointed out. "And he's had Neal and Luc for three days now. It wouldn't take Neal very long to forge that painting, and I have a feeling that Luc has already gotten into the museum's security system. How long would you wait if you had 136.4 million dollars within reach?"

Jones had to admit, he had a point.

"Call Diana, then Agent Campbell at the DC office," Peter ordered. "And be ready to leave at noon. We're going on a field trip."

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><p>When Neal and Luc opened their eyes again, Eric's body was gone, and Matt stood at the foot of the stairs, talking to Nick in hushed tones. They noticed that Neal's painting was gone, and was now presumably inside the long, thin cylindrical tube in Matt's hand. Luc groaned, his head aching, and caused their captors to look their way.<p>

"Oh, good," Matt smiled. "You're up."

"What's going on?" Luc asked drowsily.

"You two slept right through the day," Matt explained. He looked excited. "Luc, are you ready to go?"

The teen forced himself to his feet and walked over to his computer, pecking a few keys. After a moment, he nodded.

"Great," Matt sounded like a little kid on Christmas. "Then, Neal, get ready. It's show time!"

Neal looked at him in shock. "What?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, you're coming with," Matt explained. "You're going to help me steal the painting."

"Why?" Neal was shocked.

"Two reasons," Matt told him, "the first being that I need a partner on this job, and there was no way in hell I was going to pass on a chance to steal a painting with the legendary Neal Caffrey, and the second being that Nick is going to stay here as a little insurance policy. If we get caught, Luc and the little ones are all going to die. Hence the reason we brought them down here."

It was then that Neal and Luc noticed Jessica and Collin asleep in the corner of the room. Both captives rushed to their loved ones' sides.

"Collin," Luc urged, prodding the little boy. "Collin, wake up."

"Jessica," Neal's voice was just as urgent. "Jessica, sweetie, it's time to get up."

Neither child stirred. Neal and Luc exchanged worried glances, then turned to Matt. Their captor looked amused by their worry.

"What did you do?" Luc demanded.

"Oh, relax, guys," Matt said with a laugh. "It's just a little sedative. They'll be fine. No worries. Now, come one, Neal. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

Neal hesitated, looking back at his daughter's sleeping form. He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead, then stood up, walking over to Matt and Nick.

"Good," Matt smiled. He started up the stairs, then stopped, turning back to Luc. "Hey, Luc," he called, causing the teen to turn from his brother to look at him. "Before I forget," the killer grabbed something from his pocket and threw it over to him. Luc reached up and snatched it from the air, looking at it. It was a Bluetooth earpiece.

"I'll be in touch," Matt told him. With that, he and Neal vanished up the stairs, and Luc was left alone with Nick and the two unconscious children...

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><p>Neal and Matt arrived in the nation's capital roughly two hours later. They parked in an alley behind the National Museum of Art, and before they got out, Matt outfitted himself with a Bluetooth earpiece similar to the one he had given Luc. He handed an identical one to Neal, and called someone as Neal inserted it into his ear.<p>

Back in New York, both Luc and Nick were outfitted with Bluetooth, and when Nick answered Matt's call, all four of them could hear the conversation.

"Ready for us, Luc?" Matt asked as he got out of the car, putting the leather strap attached to the tube containing Neal's forgery over his head, so it stretched across his chest.

"All set," Luc confirmed with a weary sigh. "Where are you going in?"

"Back entrance," Matt told him. Luc quickly played back the recorded footage for the appropriate cameras, then unlocked the door in question.

"You're in," Luc's voice was full of disdain.

Matt pulled the door open wide, and he and Neal entered the museum...

...completely unaware that Peter, Diana, Jones, and Agent Campbell, sitting across the street in the van, had seen everything, thanks to a camera they had placed in the alley earlier that day.

"I thought Luc said there were three guys," Jones said, looking at Peter in confusion. They could see Neal's face from their angle.

"He did," Peter confirmed.

"So where's the other one?" Diana asked.

"I don't know," Peter admitted. "But it doesn't matter. Once we have McCall, we can get to Neal and the others." The FBI man stood up. "Jones, Diana, you're with me; Campbell, you guide us through the museum."

Campbell nodded, and the three remaining agents left the van and made their way across the street and into the museum.

Meanwhile, Neal and Matt had made it to the _Bal du moulin de la Galette_.

"Luc, am I ok to take it?" Matt asked, hesitating in front of the famous painting.

"Hold on a second," Luc ordered. There was a pause. "All clear," he said at last. Matt grinned and took the painting off the wall and turning it around. Within minutes, he had it out of its frame and was swapping it out for Neal's fake while the conman stood watch.

"Alright," Matt sighed, standing up and replacing the frame on the wall. "Let's go."

With the real 136.4 million dollar painting tucked safely away inside the tube across his back, Matt and Neal began to make their way back to the car.

But then Peter, Diana, and Jones came out of their hiding places, guns drawn and aimed at the two thieves.

"Freeze! FBI!" Peter shouted, his gaze steely and determined.

Neal's eyes widened with fear as, beside him, Matt, his eyes burning with rage and frustration, put his hands in the air.

"Peter..." the consultant gasped. "No..."

"Neal?" Peter looked shocked.

"Luc, you son of a bitch," Matt growled.

"I didn't call them in!" Luc protested, his voice tight and desperate. "I swear to God, I didn't call them in!"

"Neal, what's going on?" Peter sounded suspicious. But then he saw the utter terror in his partner's eyes, and he knew something was horribly wrong.

"Nick, take them out," Matt ordered.

Neal's eyes widened in panic as he stared at his captor. "No!" he shouted desperately.

Through the earpiece, Neal heard three shots, and then Matt hung up the call...


	6. Anthony

**_Hey guys! Sorry this one took so long. I'll try and post the next chapter quickly._**  
><strong><em>Listen, guys...I haven't gotten any feedback since chapter 4. Yeah, I know that was technically only a chapter ago, but whatever...<em>**  
><strong><em>If you could review, I would appreciate it. :)<em>**

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><p><em>"I can feel you falling away, no longer the lost, no longer the same. And I can see you starting to break. I'll keep you alive, if you show me the way..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Give Me a Sign"<em>

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><p>Jones and Diana moved in on Matt, taking the painting from him and slapping a pair of cuffs onto his wrists. Neal, his eyes hollow, his heart aching, choking on the bowling ball-sized lump in his throat, stumbled to the side until his back hit the wall and he slid down to the floor. Tears rolled down his face, and he choked on a sob. Matt looked on with a grin plastered on his face, seeming to take some kind of sick pleasure in Neal's pain.<p>

Peter dropped to one knee beside his friend. "Neal," he said urgently, "are you alright? What happened?"

"She's gone, Peter," Neal sobbed. "He killed her...he killed my baby girl..."

"How do you know that?" Peter challenged.

"I heard it," Neal's shoulders shook as he sobbed. Peter had never seen his partner, who was normally so cool under pressure, so crushed, so broken.

"But did you see it?" Peter pressed. "You don't know for sure, Neal. You can't possibly know for sure that she's gone. Now come on; take me to where they were keeping her. We'll go find out, ok?"

Neal looked at him, his hollow eyes showing a tentative spark of hope. He allowed the FBI man to help him up and lead him out of the museum. Agent Campbell had already taken McCall to booking for the murders of the two agents on Sasha Hale's protection detail and Sasha Hale herself. The only ones remaining were Jones and Diana. Without a word, the four of them piled into their respective cars and raced back to New York, sirens blaring...

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><p>When Peter and Neal arrived at the house where he had been held prisoner, the FBI was already there. The place was swarming with agents. To Peter's surprise, Rebecca practically attacked him when he got out of the car.<p>

"Peter," the woman was sobbing, "they won't tell me anything! They won't even tell me if she was inside! Please, just...what do you know?"

"Nothing yet," Peter said honestly. "But as soon as I know something, I will tell both of you, ok?" By then Neal had come to Rebecca's side.

Neal hesitantly nodded, tears continuing to roll down his face, as Rebecca sobbed into his shoulder. Peter looked at the pair sympathetically, then went to go talk to one of the other agents who had gotten there earlier.

Neal watched Peter's expression carefully as he talked to the agent standing by the door. As the agent explained what had happened, what they had found, Peter closed his eyes and let out a sigh, reaching up and rubbing his brow with one hand. Neal naturally feared the worst as Peter made his way back over to them.

"Peter..." Neal's voice shook with fear. "What happened to her...?"

"I don't know, Neal," Peter answered truthfully.

"You don't know?" Rebecca was hysterical. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"She wasn't there," Peter told the parents. "Jessica wasn't inside."

"What are you saying?" Neal asked hesitantly. "She's missing?"

Peter nodded, his eyes a mix of sadness, happiness, hope, and regret. "So are Luc and Collin. The only body we found in there was a man in his mid to late thirties with brown hair and blue eyes."

"Nick," Neal told him. "So you're saying...that...there's a chance...that Jessica may still be alive...?"

Peter hesitated, then nodded again. "Yes," he confirmed. "There's definitely a chance that Jessica could still be alive."

Neal felt weak with relief, and Rebecca continued to sob into his shoulder.

"Listen, Neal," Peter sighed. "We're going to find her, ok? I promise. But in the mean time, I want you to get yourself checked out, ok?"

"Yeah, Peter," Neal agreed, still trying to process what his partner had told him. "I will. I promise."

Peter nodded, then made his way into the house to get a look at the crime scene.

Neal hugged Rebecca tightly, his gaze distant. His mind was reeling. His thoughts were complete chaos. The one thought that continued to pop up over and over again was the only thing that kept him from going over the edge: Jessica could still be alive.

* * *

><p>Luc heard Matt give the order. He saw Nick raise his gun and take aim at his skull. The teenager shut his eyes, putting his arms up in a feeble attempt to protect himself. He heard Neal's desperate cry through the earpiece. Then he heard the three gunshots before the line went dead.<p>

It took him a couple of seconds to realize he wasn't dead, that he felt no pain apart from the throbbing coming from the gash in the back of his head and the bump on his temple. Slowly, as if in a moment he would discover that he was, in fact, dead, he opened his eyes and lowered his arms, turning to where Nick was supposed to be standing.

Only Nick wasn't there. He was on the ground, dead, with three holes in his back, his eyes still open, his gun still in his hand. The teenager slowly raised his eyes to the bottom of the stairs.

Who he saw standing there was the absolute last person he ever expected to see.

"Dad," Luc choked out.

"Luc," his father lowered the gun in his hand and tucked it behind his back, quickly making his way across the room to where he sat. "Thank God. Are you alright? What happened to you?" Anthony Hale gently grabbed his son's chin and turned his head to get a look at the gash in his head. "Oh yeah, you're gonna need stitches."

"You're alive," Luc breathed in surprise.

"Of course I'm alive," Anthony smiled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well I figured you were either dead or you just didn't care anymore," Luc told him, his voice hurt. "Where've you been, Dad?"

"Luc, I know you're hurt right now, and I am sorry," Anthony's voice was nothing if not sincere. "But we have got to get out of here, ok? I promise you, I will explain everything later."

"No," Luc refused. "I think I'll just wait for Agent Burke."

"Look, Sport," Anthony said, using Luc's childhood nickname. "I am going to take care of you two, ok? You and Collin both. I know what happened to Sasha, and I am so sorry that I wasn't there. But if you wait for Agent Burke, do you know what's going to happen? You and Collin are going to go into the foster system. You're going to be separated. You'll never see each other again, now is that what you really want?"

"I'm turning eighteen soon," Luc argued. "I have a job. I can take care of him."

"You're turning eighteen in seven months, Luc," Anthony corrected. "That's not soon enough."

"You're the one who ran out on us, Dad," Luc snapped. "No warning, no explanation, hell not even some crappy letter apologizing to me, nothing! You just vanished into thin air one night and we never heard from you again!"

"Luc, I know I screwed up," Anthony's voice was urgent, "and I know that nothing I can tell you will make up for any of what you have gone through because I left. But just know that I had a damn good reason for doing it, and I am never going to let it happen again. I missed out on so much of your lives, and I am not going to miss another second, ok? Now, please, get your brother and let's..." Anthony turned to the corner where Collin lay, still unconscious, and noticed Jessica for the first time. "Who's that?" he asked.

"That's Jessica. She's a friend of mine," Luc told him, sounding a lot calmer than he did a few moments ago. Anthony hesitated, as if debating something in his head.

"We have to take her home," Luc told him.

Anthony let out an exasperated sigh, debating his options in his head. "Who are her parents?" he asked after a moment.

"Rebecca Brooks and Neal Caffrey," Luc replied.

"Neal Caffrey?" Anthony raised his eyebrows. Luc nodded in confirmation. The older man nodded. "Ok. We'll drop her off at her dad's, take you to go get your head checked out, and then you can ask me anything you want, ok?"

Luc hesitated, then nodded. Together, he and his father took the two sleeping children up the stairs and out the front door. Anthony had a car waiting for them in the driveway. Within minutes, the three hostages and the formerly-missing father had vanished without a trace...

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><p>Peter walked with his partner as they made their way up to Neal's front door. They had had no luck finding Jessica yet, and after the consultant paid a visit to the doctor, Peter had insisted that he go home and get some rest. Neal had been quiet ever since he told him the news. Peter was worried about him.<p>

The pair opened the door and headed inside, escaping the chill of the spring night, and turned on the light.

Neither man had ever been so shocked in their lives.

Jessica was asleep on the couch.

After a heartbeat's hesitation, Neal ran to his daughter's side, knowing that she might not wake up yet, and scooped her up in his arms, hugging her tightly, and feeling like it was all too good to be true.

Peter looked on, a smile on his face. Then he noticed the envelope on the coffee table. It was plain and white, and it was the only thing there. The FBI man picked it up and took out its contents. It was a letter. Curious, Peter began reading.

_Dear Neal (and Agent Burke, who I'm sure is going to read this, too),_

_I just wanted to let you know that Collin and I are fine. Collin's still unconscious, and as soon as we drop Jessica off, we're going to get my head checked out. My dad came back. He saved my life. He has a lot of explaining to do, but he's going to take care of me and Collin. We're going to be fine, but, if I understand correctly, we're not coming home. Thanks for everything. Tell Jessica I'm sorry and that I'll miss her. Goodbye._

_-Luc_

Peter's eyes narrowed. Something wasn't right.

Maybe it was time to look into Mr. Hale.

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><p>Luc looked around the apartment his father had brought him to while Anthony got Collin set up in one of the rooms. The back of his head throbbed where the doctors had stitched the gash closed, but he didn't care. He wanted to know what his dad had been doing all these years, and his apartment was a good place to start trying to figure it out. The walls were bare, with almost no pictures on them, and none of them of him or his mom or Collin. It was like they never existed. This just made him angry.<p>

There was a wooden box on the kitchen table, polished and simple. It was about the size of a shoebox. Curious, the young man opened the lid. What he found inside shocked him.

Photos filled the box. Luc picked up a stack of them and looked at the one on top. It was of him, sliding in to home base. Luc knew when it was taken; it was at his championship baseball game, when he was fourteen, the year after his father left. He looked at the next one. This was of his mother, leaving work. Then there was one of her holding Collin at the park. The next showed him when he was fifteen, hanging out with a few friends at the movies. There were snapshots showing him and Collin and their mother from various points throughout the five years Anthony was away. Luc was pleasantly surprised.

"You didn't think I'd leave and just forget you ever existed, did you?" Luc looked up and found his father standing in the entryway, leaning against the wall.

"So what?" Luc wasn't ready to give up on his anger. "You were there that entire time, and you never once came to tell me what happened?"

"No," Anthony shook his head. "I was never there, Luc. I admit it, and I regretted it every day for five years. I had my brother, David, keep an eye on you. Every week, he'd send me an envelope full of photographs and updates on your lives. It wasn't the same, and I hated it, but that was the way it had to be."

"Why?" Luc demanded. "What was so important that you had to abandon us without so much as a damn explanation?"

"I was protecting you, Luc," Anthony said defensively. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to leave you, Collin, and Sasha behind."

"No?" Luc didn't sound convinced. "Well then, by all means, enlighten me."

Anthony sighed, searching for a place to start. Then he cleared his throat. "I didn't exactly make my living legally, Luc," he began. Luc raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I was kind of like a salesman on the black market. Well, I shouldn't say was. I am kind of like a salesman on the black market. I specialize in art—paintings, sculptures, things like that—and five years ago, I felt the cops moving in."

"That's how you knew Neal Caffrey?" Luc asked. "Though your...work?"

Anthony nodded. "Yeah. I know both Neal and his friend Mozzie. I worked with them a few times. Anyway, I didn't want you and your mother to know who I really was. I didn't want you to have to live through that—a trial, the press...I didn't want you and Collin to grow up with the legacy of your father being a criminal."

"No," Luc's voice wavered slightly, his eyes hurt and angry. "You just didn't want to get caught."

"That was part of it, sure," Anthony admitted. "But you have to believe me...it _killed_ me to leave you all behind and start over as if you never existed at all. I wished every day that I could go home and see you all again, but I couldn't. Look, Sport, I'm not asking you to forgive me. I'm just asking for you to let me be a part of your life now. Please, son. I already lost your mother. I can't lose you and Collin, too. Not again. Not after all this. What I did was bad, I know that. But not one second has gone by that I didn't regret and wish I could take it back. I can't change the past, Luc. I'm sorry, I wish I could, but I can't. But I'm trying to fix it now. It would be great if you would let me."

Luc was silent. When he blinked, a tear escaped his eye.

"Please, Luc," Anthony pleaded, his eyes sincere. "Just give me one more chance."

Luc hesitated. Then he let out a shaky breath. "One more chance," he repeated. "That's it."

"That's all I'm asking for," Anthony confirmed.

Luc paused once more. Then he nodded, "Ok."

Anthony look relieved, and he quickly closed the distance between him and his son, pulling him into a tight hug. Luc cried into his father's shoulder, unable to keep the tears at bay any longer...


	7. Innocent Until Proven Guilty

**_Hey, guys! Please enjoy this chapter. I REALLY can't wait until you guys get to read the next one. I'm looking forward to it! :D_**

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><p><em>"I believe in you. I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Dance with the Devil"<em>

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><p><em><span>One week later...<span>_

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><p>"Hey," Peter looked up from the file he was reading when Neal poked his head into his office. "You wanted to see me?"<p>

"Yeah," Peter confirmed, closing the file. "Come on in."

Neal slipped into his partner's office and sat down in the chair across from him as Peter examined him. The consultant's bruises were still very much evident on his face, but they were healing nicely.

"How's Jessica?" Peter asked.

"She's fine," Neal assured him. "She still has no idea what happened or that she was in any danger at all, and that's the way I intend to keep it."

"What does she think happened to you?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Rebecca and I told her that I fell down the stairs," Neal told him with a grin. Peter let out a short laugh.

"So what did you need?" Neal asked after a moment.

"I did some digging into Luc's father," Peter told him, tossing a couple of files over to the consultant. "Meet Anthony Hale."

"Luc's dad is Anthony Hale?" Neal looked surprised as he took the files in his hands.

"Yeah," Peter confirmed. "You know him?"

"Met him once or twice," Neal told him without giving away any details. "I liked him. He was good guy."

"You might want to rethink that assessment," Peter informed him. Neal looked confused, and Peter went on. "Six years ago, the FBI started looking into Anthony and his brother David. They were quite the team. David would steal the art, and Anthony would sell it. David's skill level was decent...I'd call him Neal-Caffrey-in-training," Neal grinned widely at the compliment, "but he was good enough to stay one step ahead of us on every job he did."

"Where as I was good enough to stay three steps ahead," Neal said with a charismatic grin. Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sure, Neal," he said, shaking his head. "Anyway, we could never get close enough to get any real evidence against them. Everyone we caught whom we knew had connections to them would never say anything against them."

"Well, I'm not surprised," Neal sighed. "I've met Anthony Hale, and so far you've said nothing that would change my opinion about him. He's definitely someone who I think the phrase 'honor among thieves' would apply to."

"It doesn't apply to everyone?" Peter was intrigued.

"No," Neal shook his head. "Some of the guys I've worked with have done some truly terrible things. I feel absolutely no need to protect any of them at all. Some of them, though, like Anthony Hale, I would never, ever rat out."

"I'll remember that," Peter smiled. "Anyway, we decided to put one of our people, Agent Jake Talbot, undercover to get close to Anthony and Daniel's little sister, Katherine," a disapproving look from Neal was ignored as Peter continued, "After they dated for about three months, Katherine decided it was time for him to meet the family."

"Ok, you know what? The FBI is so hypocritical!" Neal interrupted. "You guys are always talking about how evil it is for a conman to get close to someone, to earn their trust, and then rob them, but you guys do pretty much the same thing! You guys get this poor girl to fall in love with your guy, but he doesn't care about her at all. He's just using her to get close to her brothers. All he wants to do is arrest them and destroy her family, but he just keeps on lying to her. I mean, come on, Peter. Please tell me you at least think that's a pretty cruel thing to do."

"It's not ideal, Neal," Peter admitted with a sigh. "But we were running out of options. Anyway, Katherine took Jake to go meet her brothers, and they really hit it off. He was in. Everything was going perfectly.

"Now, Katherine was not involved in the family business—her brothers shielded her from what they did, but she knew anyway, because their father had taught them all how to live the life of a white collar criminal—but she really wanted to be. She was always asking them to include her in jobs. One day, they finally agreed. Anthony decided to tag along just for extra support. It was a small job; they stole a jade figurine worth about half a million dollars from a rich businessman's office. Their escape plan was to go to the roof, cross a wooden board seven feet to the building next door, and then go back down to the street level. Jake followed them. His backup took longer than expected to arrive, so by the time he made it up to the roof, Anthony and David were already across. When Jake burst onto the roof, Katherine was already half way across. Jake startled her. She lost her balance, and fell eleven stories to the street below. She died instantly. Anthony and David escaped. Two weeks later, Agent Talbot was found shot to death in his apartment."

Neal let out a sigh, feeling pity for the man he had known. "I don't think Anthony would have killed Agent Talbot," the conman said at last.

"What about David?" Peter asked.

"I wouldn't know," Neal admitted. "I only ever met Anthony."

Peter paused, thinking. "What do you think the odds would be of Anthony Hale missing his wife's funeral?" the FBI man inquired.

"Slim to none," Neal told him. "Family is everything to him. Why?"

"Pack your bags," Peter ordered. "We're going to DC."

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><p>Luc and his father stood side-by-side in front of Sasha Hale's freshly-dug grave. The cemetery was empty; the service had ended about an hour ago. Some distant family of hers that Luc had never heard of had paid for the funeral. The headstone was going to be brought in within the next week. The silence was heavy between them. Anthony rested a hand on his son's shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze.<p>

"We thought we might find you here," father and son turned to see Peter and Neal walking towards them. Anthony stiffened, looking about ready to bolt.

"Neal," Luc forced a smile. "Agent Burke. It's always good to see you."

"Good to see you're ok," Neal spoke up, slowing to a stop in front of them.

"I told you I was," Luc pointed out.

"Yeah, but I always like to see these things for myself," Peter smiled. Then he turned his attention to Anthony. "It's nice to finally meet you in person, Mr. Hale. We've been looking for you and your brother for a long time. Speaking of your brother...where is he?"

"Home," Anthony's voice was guarded, his muscles tense. "With Collin."

Peter nodded. There was a pause. "You know I can't let you leave here, Anthony. You're wanted for the murder of an FBI agent," Peter said seriously.

"Wait, what?" Luc was shocked, and looked at his father expectantly.

"You didn't tell him?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"I left that part out," Anthony admitted. "I didn't see the point in telling him. I didn't do it."

"I'm sorry," Peter said sincerely, "but I can't take your word for it."

"I did not kill him, Peter," Anthony repeated, taking a small step back. "I hated him for using Katherine like he did and then causing her death, but I didn't kill him. I couldn't kill him. And anyway, what good would it have done? It wouldn't bring her back. I could never kill a man in cold blood like that."

"You killed Nick Harper," Peter pointed out.

"That was different," Anthony said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "I mean, for God's sake, the guy was about to shoot my sons and your partner's daughter, Peter. I had no choice."

"And Agent Talbot was just doing his job," Peter countered. "I don't have a choice either. I have to take you in." The FBI agent stepped forward, taking a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

Anthony took another step back, and, after a moment of hesitation, pulled his gun from behind his back and took aim at Neal.

"Dad!" Luc cried in alarm. "What are you doing?"

"Whoa," Neal laughed nervously, raising his hands slightly as, beside him, Peter dropped the handcuffs and pulled his gun from its holster, taking aim at Anthony's forehead.

"Sorry, Neal," Anthony said sincerely. "But I'm not going to prison for something I didn't do. Not when my boys need me." Neal nodded in understanding, but it was clear that he was nervous.

"Put the gun down Anthony," Peter commanded. "Don't make me do something we're both going to regret."

"Dad, what are you doing?" Luc gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at the gun.

Anthony ignored his son's question. "Luc, get out of here," he ordered, his voice even, never taking his eyes off of his target...which, even though it looked like it was Neal's head, was really the tree just behind and to the left of the conman.

"Dad," Luc began.

"Go!" Anthony snapped, turning to look him in the eye. Luc hesitated, looking at Peter and Neal, and then back at his father. Finally, the teenager slowly turned and started weaving through the headstones, making his way to the gate on the other side of the cemetery.

"You're making a mistake, Anthony," Peter told him.

"I. Did. Not. Kill. Him," Anthony's words were deliberate, and full of frustration.

"I can't let you go," Peter told him.

"Well, if you want Neal to leave here without any extra holes in him, you will," the other man threatened.

"You won't kill him," Peter sounded sure. "If you really didn't kill our agent, then you're not a killer."

"You're right," Anthony nodded, "I didn't kill him. But I did kill Nick. You'd be surprised at just what a man can be capable of if he's pushed far enough. I've already lost my family once. My wife is dead, and I will never get her back. I have two boys who need me. I have been hunted for a murder I did not commit for five years. I've pretty much been pushed to my limit. Now, do you really want to take that chance?" He was bluffing, of course. But, hey, he'd always been good at poker.

Peter hesitated, his jaw set. The tension in the air was almost tangible as Peter struggled to make up his mind. Finally, the agent let out a frustrated sigh, and lowered his gun, putting it down on the ground.

Anthony smiled. "See you later, Peter," he said, backing up, glancing behind him every so often to make sure he didn't trip on a headstone, keeping his gun trained on the tree behind Neal. When he was almost to the gate, he knew he was out of range, and he quickly tucked his gun behind his back and slipped out of the graveyard. Luc was waiting for him just around the corner. Without a word, father and son quickly walked down the street, keeping their heads down, blending into the crowds of people, until they got to their car, which was parked about two blocks away. When Luc and Anthony were both safely inside, Luc turned to his father.

"Tell me everything."

* * *

><p>Peter snatched up his gun and dashed after Anthony as soon as the possible murderer no longer had his gun trained on Neal. He sprinted across the cemetery and through the gate in record time, but by the time he turned the way Anthony had gone, both Anthony and Luc had vanished.<p>

"Damn it," Peter growled, frustrated. Neal made an appearance at his partner's side.

"I could have told you that you wouldn't find them," the conman told him.

"Shut up, Neal," Peter snapped. Neal put his hands up in surrender. "I need your help, Neal," the FBI man said at last, rounding on his friend. "I need you to tell me where he would go."

"Peter, I can't," Neal shook his head.

"Neal," Peter sighed impatiently. "This guy had a gun on you, and you still want to defend him?"

"Yes," the conman replied readily. "Because he was bluffing. Peter, if he had pulled the trigger, the bullet would have gone past me."

"And you let him get away?" Peter was outraged.

"Well, there was always the chance that I was wrong," Neal shrugged. "I didn't want to take that chance either."

Peter took a deep breath, calming down. "Look, Neal, if Anthony Hale didn't kill Jake Talbot—"

"Which I'm betting he didn't," Neal interrupted.

"—then odds are, David Hale did. And if David is anywhere near Luc and Collin..."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to see where Peter was going with this. "Then they could be in danger," Neal finished with a sigh.

"Exactly," Peter nodded.

Neal hesitated. Then he sighed wearily. "Alright," he agreed at last. "I'll help you find them."

"Thank you," Peter smiled slightly. "Now where do we start?"


	8. Nothing Left to Lose

_**Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading, and, as always, please DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!**_

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><p><em><em>"Things couldn't get much worse. I've had it up to here. You know your end is near" ... "You will get what you deserve. When all is said and done, I will be the one to leave you in your misery and hate what you've become..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Had Enough"<em>_

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><p>An hour later, Luc made his way into the apartment, Anthony at his side. David was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking some coffee and watching TV. He smiled when he saw them enter.<p>

"Hey, guys," he greeted them. "What's up?"

"Not much, David," Anthony sighed.

"Cool," if David picked up on their weary tones, he didn't say anything. "Well, Collin's asleep in his room, so if you don't mind, I have to get going. I have a meeting to get to." Without waiting for an answer, the other man stood up and left the apartment, leaving Anthony and Luc alone in the living room.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence that followed. Finally, Anthony sighed and turned to his son.

"Look, Sport, I know what I told you is a lot to handle, but—" he began.

"You know, Dad, I think I'm going to turn in," Luc interrupted.

"Luc, I'm sorry I didn't tell you before—"

Again, Luc didn't let him finish. "It's fine, Dad. I'm fine. I swear. I'm just tired, I promise. Ok?"

Anthony sighed. "Ok," he said finally, giving in. "See you in the morning."

"Goodnight," Luc nodded. Then he turned and vanished into his room, closing the door behind him.

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><p>The next morning, Luc woke up early. He got dressed silently, pulling on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a zip-up sweatshirt, and carried his shoes out into the living room. He quickly went to message pad beside the phone and wrote a message, telling his father that he was going out for a walk. Then he crept out into the hall, pulled on his shoes, and within minutes he had left the building.<p>

Luc walked around the neighborhood Anthony had taken them to for hours, letting his mind wander. In what felt like no time at all, the sun had begun to set.

Luc slowed to a stop, looking around, letting out a weary sigh. He knew he should be getting home. But then he spotted the pay phone just three feet away. A thought occurred to him: since his father seemed keen on the idea of not giving him the whole picture, maybe Peter and Neal would tell him everything. Before he could stop himself, he was digging into his pocket and pulling out the crumpled business card with Peter's cell number scribbled on the back that the FBI man had given him and a few quarters. He deposited the money into the phone and dialed the number quickly.

The phone rang and rang, but no one answered. Luc looked chest fallen. Just as he was about to give up and put the phone back, Peter answered.

"Hello?"

"Peter," Luc let out a sigh of relief. "It's Luc. I was hoping we could talk."

"Sure, Luc," The agent readily agreed. "Just tell me when and where."

Luc hesitated, then rattled off the address of a building a block from his apartment.

"Great," Peter said when he finished. "We'll be there in ten minutes."

"Ok," Luc agreed. The teenager hung up the phone and started walking back to the apartment. When he walked through the door, he heard his dad and Uncle David arguing. They stopped as soon as the door opened and stared at him.

"Luc," Anthony sighed. "Where have you been?"

"I told you," Luc said, glancing between him and his uncle uneasily. "I went for a walk."

"Right," Anthony nodded, remembering. "Look, if you could keep an eye on your brother, I need to go have a word with your uncle."

Luc was about to protest, but he gave it up with a sigh, and nodded in agreement. He sat down on the couch as the adults quickly left the room, closing the door behind them.

As soon as he was alone, Luc jumped to his feet. He was going to follow the two older men. He wanted to know why they were fighting. But first things first...

Luc picked up the house phone and called Peter again.

"Change of plans, meet me at my apartment," he said as soon as the FBI man answered. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go follow my father and uncle. Bye!" he hung up before Peter could say anything else. Luc quickly dashed out the door and knocked on the next door neighbor's door. It was an elderly lady who had once kept an eye on Collin when Luc and his father had gone out. She answered quickly.

"Hi, Mrs. Johnson," Luc grinned. "Listen, I know this is a little short-notice, but could you just do me a huge favor and keep an eye on Collin for, like, ten minutes? He's already asleep and everything, I just have to run out for a little while."

"Oh, sure, Luc," Mrs. Johnson grinned. Luc thanked her, and quickly let her into the apartment before dashing off down the hall, down the stairs, into the lobby, and out the door. He got there just in time to see his father and uncle turn a corner and enter the alleyway next to the apartment building. Luc rushed after them, but stopped just around the corner, out of sight, but not out of earshot.

"I can't believe that you would...I mean...I just don't understand, David," Anthony was saying.

"He was the reason Katherine was dead, Anthony," David growled. "If it weren't for him, she would be alive."

"So you killed him?" Anthony's voice was full of disbelief. "What good did that do, David? Huh? Tell me that. It didn't bring her back, did it? It made me have to leave my family behind, David. He had a family, too. I looked into it. He had a brother and two sisters, three nieces and a nephew. And you took him from them. I mean...what the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking about Katherine!" David snapped. "She was in love with him, Anthony. And he used her. The bastard deserved what he got. It's called karma."

"No, it's called murder!" Anthony's volume level rose. "You can't just go around and decide who lives and who dies. You can't play God. He didn't mean to kill Katherine, David. It was an accident. I miss her, too, but I can't let you get away with murder. I have to tell Peter, I'm sorry." Anthony turned and started walking back towards the street.

David felt an overwhelming wave of rage fall over him. To his left, there was two-by-four propped up against the building. He grabbed it, and, blinded by rage, hit his brother hard in the back of the head with it. Anthony cried out and fell forward onto the ground, a gash in the back of his head.

"Dad!" Luc cried without thinking, rushing around the corner and dropping to one knee at his father's side. "Dad, can you hear me? Are you ok?"

David's face had been drained of virtually all color, and he dropped the two-by-four. "I didn't...I just...I'm so...I..." the man stuttered.

"Dad," Luc frantically shook his father's shoulder. "Dad, please! Wake up! Please! Please, Dad! I just got you back! Please don't leave me again!" His hand shaking, the teen reached out and checked Anthony's pulse. After a few moments, he let out a shaky sigh of relief when he found one. It was faint, but strong.

"Freeze! FBI!" Peter and Neal had arrived. Peter was standing at the entrance to the alley, his gun drawn and aimed at David. Neal stood by his side.

David took one look at Peter and panicked. In one swift motion, he reached down and grabbed his nephew by the arm, yanking him to his feet and pulling his gun out from behind his back, pressing the muzzle under Luc's chin. Luc froze, hardly daring to breathe.

"You don't want to do that, David," Peter tried to reason with him.

"Uncle David," Luc gasped, terrified. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up, Luc," David growled.

"Let him go, David," Peter ordered.

"No," David refused. "I'm not going to prison, Peter. I'm not."

"Peter, he's the one who killed your agent!" Luc told the FBI man. David grabbed a fistful of Luc's hair and pulled it back, pressing the gun a little harder into the young man's throat.

"I said, shut up, Luc!" David snapped.

"You don't want to hurt him, David," Peter tried to convince him. "He's your nephew, your own flesh and blood. You won't kill him."

"No?" David laughed. "Why not? I just killed my brother. Why not go one step further and kill his son? I've got nothing left to lose except my freedom, Peter. So either I walk out of here, or you end up taking two bodies to the morgue instead of just one."

Luc was too terrified to tell his uncle that Anthony was actually alive. Instead, he stared at Peter, wide-eyed and shaking. The agent didn't respond, his gun still aimed steadily at the man with the gun, although it was very difficult to find a place to shoot where he wouldn't hurt Luc.

"Hey, if you want to shoot me, Peter," David said with a mocking chuckle, "go ahead and shoot. But I'm guessing that, if that's your plan, you're going to have to go through Luc. Maybe I'm wrong, but you don't seem like the type who would shoot through a kid just to kill me."

Again, Peter didn't respond. David smirked in satisfaction. "Goodbye, Peter," he smiled. Then he began pulling Luc backwards down the alley, towards the other side, where his car was waiting for him. Within a few minutes, both the murderer and the teenager were out of sight.

"Check on Anthony," Peter ordered his partner, already starting down the alley. "And call Agent Campbell; tell him to bring backup!"

Neal nodded and pulled out his cell phone, dropping to one knee beside Anthony's unconscious form and checking his pulse as he dialed the number he knew by heart.

Peter dashed down the alley and onto the street it led to, looking around frantically for some sign of David and Luc. But there was nothing. It was as if the pair had simply vanished. Peter let out a frustrated growl.

"Damn it."

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><p>"We've got checkpoints and roadblocks out for a five mile radius," Agent Campbell told Peter as they stood outside the alley. Around them, lights from squad cars and the ambulance flashed, illuminating the faces of Peter, Neal, and Agent Campbell. "There's a BOLO out on both David and Luc. I have agents interviewing neighbors, trying to get an idea of where to look."<p>

"Any news on Anthony?" Neal asked.

"He's been taken to the hospital. The EMTs thought he fractured his skull, so they're not sure what kind of brain damage he sustained. He was still unconscious when they loaded him into the ambulance," Campbell explained.

"What about Collin?" the consultant pressed.

"My guys found him in his father's apartment with the next door neighbor. Apparently, Luc asked her to watch him while he ran an errand," Campbell replied readily.

"Alright, keep us updated on things here," Peter ordered. "We'll go down to the hospital and wait for Anthony to wake up."

"Sounds good," Campbell agreed. They split up, Peter and Neal climbing into the car, Campbell going to talk to one of his people. The partners were on their way in seconds...

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><p>Anthony's head ached. He struggled to force his eyes open. Finally, he was able to pry his eyelids apart. When he looked around, everything was blurry and way too bright. He groaned, letting his head fall to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them again, his vision had improved, though not by much. He was able to make out two figures standing before him. He reached up a hand to rub his eyes...only to find that he couldn't move his hand. It was chained to bed he was laying in.<p>

"Anthony," whoever had spoken was standing beside his bed, but their face was too blurry to tell who it was. "Anthony, can you hear me?"

The criminal didn't respond as someone shined a light in his eyes. Anthony groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut against the light.

Finally, his vision began to clear up. He blinked a few more times, and he could see Neal and Peter standing by his bed.

"Peter?" Anthony mumbled. "Neal?" The conman winced at the pounding in his head. "What happened? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital," Peter told him. "David hit you in the head. He knocked you out. You fractured your skull, but you should be fine."

"What's the last thing you remember?" Neal asked.

Anthony paused and thought for a moment. "I...I was talking to David about what happened at the cemetery...David told me that...he was the one who killed Jake...Then Luc came home and...David and I went outside...I told David that I couldn't let him get away with murder. I was going to go tell you what I knew...I was leaving the alley...and I saw..." a glimmer of panic showed in the man's eyes. "Luc. Where's Luc? What happened to him? Is he ok?"

Peter and Neal exchanged glances.

"We don't know," Peter said at last.

"You don't know?" Anthony looked terrified. "What do you mean, you don't know? Where is my son, Peter?"

"Luc called me," Peter sighed. "He wanted to talk. He told me to meet him at a building a block from your apartment. About five minutes later, he called and said to meet him at the apartment, and that he was going to follow you and David. He overheard you talking to David. He saw David hit you in the head, and he ran out to see if you were ok. We got there just in time to see you go down. I tried to bring David in...he panicked, grabbed Luc, used him as a shield, and escaped."

Anthony had tears in his eyes. His hands were clenched into fists. He slammed his head back into the pillow, biting his tongue against the pain he experienced because of it. With his free hand, he reached up and wiped his eyes.

"What about Collin?" Anthony asked at last.

"Collin's fine," Peter assured him. "Luc asked your neighbor to watch him while he followed you. He was still asleep when we got to him."

"What's going to happen to him?" Anthony asked, his gaze stressed and worried.

"What do you mean?" Peter seemed confused.

"Well, I'm assuming I'm going to prison," Anthony jangled the handcuffs on his wrist for emphasis.

"Oh, you're not going to prison," Neal shook his head.

"What?" Now it was Anthony's turn to be confused.

"Well, as much as it pains me, we can't arrest you. We don't have enough evidence in any of the cases against you in order to convict," Peter told him.

"Well, then, why am I handcuffed to my bed?" Anthony questioned.

"So you won't go off after your brother before you're even remotely healed," Peter explained.

Anthony sighed, "Come on, Peter. I'm not that dumb."

Peter laughed out loud. "Yeah, the last time I believed that about someone, he almost ended up dead," he chuckled, jabbing a thumb in Neal's direction. Anthony looked at Neal, who shrugged helplessly.

"Rebecca has volunteered to watch Collin until you're feeling better," Neal told him. "If that's ok with you."

"Yeah," Anthony agreed. "Sasha obviously trusted her enough to take care of him, so why shouldn't I?"

Peter smiled at him. "Collin's outside, if you want to see him," the agent told him.

Anthony nodded eagerly, and Peter undid the man's handcuffs before walking to the door and pulling it open, leaning outside and talking to someone. Seconds later, Collin ran into the room.

"Daddy!" the little boy cried, jumping into his father's outstretched arms. Anthony hugged his son tightly, not wanting to let go.

Peter and Neal looked on, smiles on their faces. They waited there until it was time for Collin to go, and then they left...but not before Peter re-secured Anthony's wrist to his bed.

The partners dropped Collin off at Rebecca's, which gave Neal an excuse to pop in and see Jessica, but in five minutes, they were back on the road. They had work to do.


	9. Swan Dive

_**Ok. I get it. You guys only want to comment every other chapter. That's fine, I guess...**_

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><p><em><em>"Search for the answers I knew all along. I lost myself, we all fall down. Never the wiser of what I've become. Alone I stand, a broken man..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"<em>_

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><p><em><span>Two weeks<span> later..._

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><p>Luc sat in his room, his back to the wall, staring out the window that he knew wouldn't open. Once they left DC, his uncle had taken him to a house buried deep in the woods. The first thing he did was lock him in this little room. He hadn't left the room since then. There was a bathroom attached, and, every couple of days, David brought him some food, so apparently there was no need for him to leave. Not that he could run even if he wanted to, or even if he had the opportunity; the second thing David had done was take his shoes. Running through a forest with only socks to protect his feet didn't exactly appeal to the teenager.<p>

Luc sighed, letting his head fall back against the bed behind him. He didn't know how long he had been there, but he knew it was long enough that he should start accepting the idea that neither the FBI nor his father was ever going to be able to find him.

The door behind him opened. During the first week, he used to try and get as far away from the door as physically possible whenever that happened. Now, he didn't even care.

"Hey, Luc," David's voice was cold, giving away no emotions whatsoever. "Time to eat."

Luc was starving, but he didn't make a move to stand up.

"Luc," David repeated, a little louder this time. "It's time to eat."

"Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" Luc asked, continuing to stare out the window. His voice was dull, lacking any sort of hope or optimism.

"Now why would you want me to do that?" David asked with a sigh.

Luc shrugged, "My dad is either dead, in prison, or in a coma. God knows what happened to Collin, although it's pretty obvious that I'm never going to see him again. My mom is dead. I'm pretty sure that Peter and Neal aren't having any luck tracking me down...I just don't see the point of sticking around, that's all. I mean, it's not like I'm getting VIP treatment or anything."

David was quiet for a moment. He didn't know what to say. Finally, he set the plate in his hand down on the desk to his left. "I'm not going to kill you, Luc, so get that thought out of your head right now," David's voice was firm.

"Why not?" Still, Luc did not turn his attention from the window. "You already killed your brother. Why not take it one step further and kill his son? After all, you've got nothing left to lose except your freedom, right?"

David was silent. Then he cleared his throat. "I'll be back for the plate later," he said quietly. Then he turned and left the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Luc hesitated, then turned to see what David had brought him. It was a ham and cheese sandwich, and it looked pretty damn good to his empty stomach. He hadn't eaten in what felt like weeks, but had really only been about three days. But he didn't move to take it. Maybe he would later. Right now, he just didn't care...

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><p>"<em>Alright, Katherine," Anthony said as he dropped onto the rooftop of the building next door. "Nice and easy. Take it slow, ok? There's no need to rush."<em>

"_Ok," his little sister called. Her long brown hair was tucked inside her mask as she climbed up onto the roof ledge and started out onto the seven-foot-long board connecting the two buildings together, her arms out to the side for balance._

"_Be careful, Katherine," David warned her from Anthony's side._

"_Would you just shut up, David," Katherine snapped. "This is scary enough already."_

_The brothers watched as their little sister progressed slowly towards them, one foot in front of the other._

_And then it happened. The door behind Katherine burst open with a bang._

"_FBI! Don't move!" the brothers saw Jake, Katherine's boyfriend, standing in the doorway, gun aimed at them._

_Katherine jumped in surprise. She spun on the board, losing her balance. She screamed, slipping off the beam. At the last possible second, she grabbed the beam._

"_Katherine!" David and Anthony cried in unison._

"_Hold on, Katherine!" Jake had run to the edge of the building and was now staring at his fake girlfriend in terror._

"_Just hold on, Katherine. Don't let go," David ordered, crawling back onto the ledge. "I'm coming. I'll pull you back up."_

"_David!" Katherine shrieked. "Hurry! I'm slipping!"_

_David was half way to his sister when Katherine lost her grip on the plank. She let out a terrified shriek as she plunged down to the street below._

"_No!" Anthony shouted, his eyes wide with disbelief._

"_Katherine!" David cried, trying to grab her and missing by inches. The brothers watched as she fell, pulled by gravity's merciless hand. When she hit the pavement, they knew she was gone..._

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><p>Anthony jolted awake, breathing heavily. He looked around, and relaxed. He was in the New York apartment he had just moved into. Boxes were still stacked everywhere; he hadn't made much progress unpacking. Collin hadn't come to live with him yet; he was going to wait until he had settled in. He had left the hospital against medical advice a few days earlier.<p>

At that moment, Anthony realized what had woken him; someone was knocking on the door. Anthony stood up from the couch with a sigh and made his way to the door, pulling it open wide. Mozzie stood in the doorway.

"Please tell me you got something," Anthony said wearily.

Mozzie held up a piece of paper with a picture on it, "Security camera spotted your brother at a grocery store in Greenbelt, Maryland."

Anthony snatched the photo from Mozzie's hand. The photo was grainy, but there was no denying it. It was David.

"Still no sign of Luc?" Anthony asked.

Mozzie shook his head. "David's either keeping him somewhere, or..." the conman trailed off, not wanting to say what he had been about to.

"Or he's dead," Anthony finished.

"I didn't say that," Mozzie shook his head.

"You didn't have to," Anthony told him with a sigh. "I know what the odds are, Moz. I know that they're not good. But I'm not going to stop until I find my son...whatever that may entail..."

"Well, I'm always here to help," Mozzie assured his friend.

"Thanks, Moz," Anthony smiled. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye," Mozzie nodded. With that, the small, balding man headed back toward the elevator. Anthony closed the door and sat down at his kitchen table with a sigh, examining the picture, trying to remember if his brother had any safe houses near Greenbelt, Maryland. He was racking his brain, which was still jumbled and confused. Finally, he remembered.

Anthony dove for his phone, quickly dialing Peter's number. He was still in DC, wrapping up some loose ends.

It felt like the phone rang for an eternity before the FBI man answered, "Hello?"

"Peter," Anthony let out an anxious sigh. "I think I know where David has Luc."

This got Peter's attention. "Where?" he asked, all business.

Anthony told him about the safe house his brother kept in the thick forest near Greenbelt, Maryland.

"Ok," Peter sighed. "I'll let you know what we find, Anthony."

"Thanks, Peter," Anthony sighed. "Bye."

"Bye."

Anthony hung up the phone and sighed, running his hand though his hair, wincing at the sharp pain in the back of his head, where the gash his brother had given him was still clearly evident. He was terrified of what they would find at the safe house. His options weren't good. He just hoped that the only good one was the one that they found...

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><p>Luc jumped, startled, when David threw open his door.<p>

"It's time to go, Luc," David said, his expression and voice nervous.

"What?" Luc's sense of self-preservation kicked in, and he backed away from his uncle a little bit. "Why?"

"Because Peter and Neal are getting too close to finding you, that's why," David snapped. "Now let's _go!_"

The murderer walked around the bed and grabbed Luc by the arm, dragging him out into the living room. Luc fought him, desperate to stay, wanting nothing more than to get out of there, but since he hadn't eaten in a while, he simply didn't have the strength.

David dragged his nephew out the front door and saw several cars racing along the dirt road toward the house.

"Shit," David muttered. Dragging Luc along behind him, David dashed toward his car.

"Ow!" Luc cried, struggling to get free. "Uncle David, stop! You're hurting me! Let me go!"

"Get in the car, Luc!" David growled, yanking open the back seat of the SUV and practically throwing Luc into the car. Once he was inside, David slammed the door behind him and jumped into the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition and stepping on the gas. He pulled onto the dirt road and raced away from the house as fast as he could. The FBI followed close behind.

David gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, continuously glancing in the rearview mirror. The cops were gaining. He saw a rarely-used service road up ahead.

"Hold on, Luc," David warned. At the last second, he jerked the wheel to the left and turned onto the service road. In the back seat, Luc was tossed around like a ragdoll in the dryer as the SUV bounced over the uneven ground.

Most of the cop cars missed the turn, but some didn't. David stepped on the gas, trying to put some distance between him and his pursuers.

"Uncle David," Luc's voice was nervous. "Slow down! You're going too fast!"

"Shut up, Luc," David growled.

He should have listened to his nephew.

All of the sudden, the forest opened up, and David could see a small lake just below a small cliff. David tried to avoid the edge, but Luc was right. He was going too fast. Neither Luc nor David had time to scream, or even to react at all, before the car plunged over the edge of the cliff and down into the water below.

The impact was harder than either of them had expected. Before they knew it, the car was filling with frigid water. David reached into the back seat and grabbed a fistful of Luc's sweatshirt. By then, the car was already full of water. The murderer pulled his nephew up into the front seat and then through the open driver's side window. David swam up, towards the light, and before long, he and Luc broke the surface.

Both captor and hostage gasped in giant breaths of air. David looked up and saw Peter, Neal, and several agents looking down at him. David smiled at Peter and waved. Beside him, Luc looked terrified.

"Take a breath, Luc," David ordered. The teenager didn't have a choice but to obey. As soon as he had filled his lungs, his uncle pulled him underwater and started swimming...

* * *

><p>"Damn it!" Peter growled after David and Luc disappeared under the surface for the second time. They didn't see the pair come up again for five minutes. They had to assume they swam somewhere where they couldn't see them.<p>

"I want search teams all around this lake!" Peter shouted to the agents around him.

"Come on, Peter," Neal sighed. "Let's go check out the house." Peter let out a weary sigh, then nodded. He and Neal climbed back into the car, and headed back into the house.

The crime scene people had yet to arrive, but neither man wanted to wait. Peter and Neal entered the house and looked around. There wasn't much to see. In the living room, there was a couch, a coffee table, and a TV. Resting on the coffee table was a police scanner, which explained how David knew they were coming. The kitchen revealed nothing of importance, although it was apparent that David needed to go grocery shopping; the refrigerator and cabinets were almost bare. The first bedroom they came to had to be Luc's; there was an unlocked padlock on the door. Agent and consultant opened the door and made their way inside.

"Well, at least David was feeding him," Peter noted, gesturing to the untouched ham and cheese sandwich on the desk.

"Yeah, but the question is, how often?" Neal sighed, looking around.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked, looking at him.

"Well, Luc is on the football team at his school," Neal began.

"How do you know that?" Peter looked surprised.

"Peter, I spent three days trapped in a cellar with the kid," Neal pointed out. "You tend to get to know a person pretty well after a while." Peter shrugged, accepting the conman's explanation.

"Anyway," Neal continued. "They have to do pretty intense conditioning; Luc is a strong kid. But did you see him fighting David when we were driving up to the house? I've seen Jessica fight harder to avoid getting a shot. Which means either Luc didn't really want to get free, which I doubt, or..."

"Or he simply didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight," Peter finished.

"Exactly," Neal nodded.

As Peter began to look around the rest of the room, Neal examined the window. It didn't appear to be locked. So why didn't Luc...

The conman tugged up on the window. It wouldn't budge. Closer examination revealed that it was sealed shut.

"The poor kid was caged like an animal," Neal commented, his voice full of pity. He made his way out out of the room and into David's bedroom next door.

"Luc's a smart kid," Peter said, thinking out loud. "He's smart enough to think of an escape plan and act on it. So why didn't he try?"

"Because David took his shoes," Neal replied, appearing in the doorway, holding a pair of sneakers that had to be Luc's.

Peter looked at the shoes, then at Neal, and let out a weary sigh. "We gotta find this kid..."


	10. Little Cabin in the Woods

_**Hey, guys. Look, this is kinda getting really discouraging. I've gone a while without getting any reviews except for one. I told you guys before that I thrive on reviews (or if I didn't, and that was a different story, then sorry XD). And this total lack of reviews has driven me to decide something that I'm sure a lot of you would catergorize as bitchy. But, hey, I'm the author, I get to do this , anyway, on to my decision:**_  
><em><strong><span>I AM NOT GOING TO POST THE REST OF THIS STORY UNTIL I GET SOME MORE<span> FEEDBACK.**_  
><em><strong>That's it, guys. This is my ultimatum. And, just so you guys know, I'm getting close to the end. And I am REALLY, REALLY proud of the ending I have chosen. Anyway, enjoy this kind of short chapter, and know that if I don't get more feedback, this story will have no ending. Thanks for reading.<strong>_

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><p><em>"I'm not like you, your faceless lies, your weak dead heart, your black dead eyes. I'll make it through, but not this time. Your hope is gone, and so is mine..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Crawl"<em>

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><p>Luc stumbled and crashed through the forest, his uncle pulling him along by his arm. His clothes and hair were soaked, clinging to his skin. He shook with cold and exhaustion; he didn't know how much longer he could last.<p>

Luc's foot caught on a tree root, and he fell to the ground. He was too exhausted to get up.

"Luc, get up!" David growled, pulling on his nephew's arm. "Let's go!"

"I can't," Luc panted, his expression helpless. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Lucas Andrew Hale, I am not going to go to prison because of you! Now get your ass up and keep moving!" David yanked Luc to his feet, forcing him onward.

A few minutes later, the pair came across a hunting cabin. They saw a man inside, washing dishes. David got an idea.

"Ok, Luc," he sighed, turning to the younger man. "Go up to that cabin and get the people inside to open the door."

"What?" Luc knew what his uncle was planning, and he didn't want to be a part of it. "No!"

David, desperate and angry, grabbed Luc's sopping wet hair and yanked his head back. The teen winced in pain, but kept his mouth shut.

"Do not argue with me, Luc," he growled through clenched teeth. "Now go!" David pushed Luc forward, and the two of them made their way up to the front door. David hid behind a small evergreen tree by the house before Luc rang the doorbell.

A few seconds passed before the door opened, and a woman in her mid-forties with shoulder-length brown hair and a kind face stood before him. She took one look at the soaking-wet, shivering teenager, and instantly became concerned.

"Are you alright, son?" she asked, her expression worried. "What happened to you? You know what, why don't you come inside and dry off?"

"Thanks," David chose this moment to appear, his gun—damp, but still functional—aimed at the woman's head. "We'd love to." The woman looked terrified as she moved aside to let them in.

"Karen, who's at the..." the man from the window, who was a little older than the woman, with dark hair and green eyes, stopped drying his hands and trailed off when he saw David, or, more specifically, the gun in David's hand.

David smiled at the man. "Karen," he said, turning to address the woman, "is anyone else here? Before you answer, I want you to know that if I find out you lied to me, everybody dies."

The woman, Karen, hesitated, then nodded in confirmation.

"The kids?" David guessed. Again, Karen nodded. "Why don't you get them down here?" the killer suggested, although it really wasn't up for debate.

Karen hesitated, then made her way to the stairs. "Kevin! Angela! Get down here!"

Moments later, Luc and David heard footsteps pounded down the stairs. A boy about Luc's age with a thick mop of brown hair and matching eyes led the way for a girl of about thirteen with long light brown hair and green eyes. Both children froze when they saw David and his gun.

"Hello, Kevin and Angela," David smiled wolfishly. "Just stay calm and do what I say, and everything's going to be fine, ok? Good. Luc, go find some duct tape, would you?"

Luc hesitated, looking from the family before him to his uncle and back. Finally, he did as he was told, heading into the kitchen and pulling open drawers and cabinets, looking for duct tape. While he looked, David forced the family into the living room and made them all sit down against the wall. When Luc found the tape, he made his way back to the uncle.

"Make sure they can't go anywhere," David ordered. "Get their mouths, too; I don't want them yapping."

"No," Luc refused. "You want it done, then do it yourself."

David's eyes burned with rage. He brought his arm across his body and pistol whipped the teen. Angela screamed as Luc fell flat on his back, not having the strength to remain on his feet after the hit.

"What did I say about arguing with me, Luc?" David growled loudly. "Now get up and go!"

Luc, his injured head aching, the fresh cut on his cheek throbbing, forced himself to his feet. He glared at David, nothing but hatred in his eyes, and began taping each family member's feet and hands together, adding an extra piece to seal their mouths, muttering apologies as he worked. When he was done, he stood back up and turned to face the murderer keeping him there, who nodded his approval.

"Good," he said simply. "Now go upstairs, get changed, and dry off."

Luc glanced apologetically at the family behind him, then headed upstairs. He found Kevin's room without much difficulty. Before long, he had dried off and was dressed in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a hooded sweatshirt, and a dry pair of socks; he couldn't find any of Kevin's shoes.

He was about to leave when he spotted Kevin's cell phone on the dresser. The teenager glanced into the hall and closed the door, cursing to himself when he found that there was no lock on the door. Luc picked up the cell phone and quickly dialed Peter's cell phone number. It seemed like forever before the FBI agent answered.

"Hello?" Peter sounded weary.

"Peter," Luc's voice was a whisper.

"Luc?" Peter was shocked. "Where are you?"

"I don't know," Luc shook his head. "After we got out of the lake, we just started running. He broke into a cabin..."

"Luc, were there people in the cabin?" Peter asked urgently.

"Yes," Luc confirmed.

"Where are they now?" Peter demanded.

"They're downstairs," Luc told him. "They're fine. Uncle David made me tape their hands and feet and mouths, but he didn't hurt them."

"Good," Peter sighed. "What about you, Luc? Are you alright?"

"Well, I'd kill for a cheeseburger," Luc admitted. "But I'm fine, Peter, really."

Peter laughed softly.

"Peter," Luc's voice was tentative. "What happened to my dad? Is he ok?"

"Your dad is fine, Luc," Peter assured him. "He's a free man. He's got an apartment in New York, now. Collin is going to go live with him as soon as he gets settled in. He hasn't stopped looking for you since he got out of the hospital."

"Really?" Luc smiled slightly.

"Really," Peter confirmed. "He's the one who told us where to look for you today."

Luc was about to reply when he heard David coming up the stairs. "I have to go," he whispered.

"Ok, Luc, stall if you can. We're going to find you, kid. We're going to get you out of there."

Luc didn't have a chance to reply. He simply hung up and tossed the phone into the drawer, then sat down on the bed and pretended to be putting on his sock when David opened the door.

"Good, you're ready," the murderer approved. "Go downstairs and wait with the others. I'm going to get changed and then we'll go."

Luc nodded, then headed downstairs while David went to go find a change of clothes. When Luc made it to the ground floor, he saw Angela crying beside her brother. The teen felt a pang of guilt when he saw how terrified they all were. He walked over to them, squatting down in front of them.

"Hey," he said softly. "Listen, I'm sorry about all this. But don't worry. Everything's going to be fine, ok? I promise." Luc glanced at the stairs for a moment before he continued, "I called a friend of mine at the FBI. He's on his way. You're all going to be fine. I'm not going to let him hurt you, ok?"

No one answered him, but he didn't expect them to...mostly because he knew they couldn't. But the relief he saw in their eyes, mixing in with the fear, was good enough for Luc. Moments later, David came back down the stairs. "Let's go, Luc," he called. Luc let out a sigh, then stood up, walking over to him. David grabbed the keys to the truck from the hook by the door, then opened the door, turning back to the family in the living room. "Thanks for your hospitality," he smiled. Then he and Luc left the house, closing the door behind them.

"Where are we going?" Luc asked as he got into the passenger seat of the truck.

"I guess you're just going to have to wait and find out," David muttered, turning the key in the ignition and pulling out onto the road.

Luc sighed, settling into his seat, staring out the window as the trees flew by. In the side-view mirror, the teenager watched as the cabin got smaller and smaller, until it finally disappeared, and he was left completely alone with a murderer in the driver's seat...

* * *

><p>Peter and Neal, accompanied by several squad cars and FBI vehicles, silently approached the cabin. They had traced the cell phone Luc called from back to it. As the cops and FBI agents began to move into position, Peter turned to Neal.<p>

"Stay in the car," he ordered before moving into position. Neal had no choice but to watch as Peter and the others rushed into the cabin. It felt like hours before his partner appeared in the doorway to wave him in. Neal quickly jumped out of the car and jogged inside.

"Looks like we just missed them," Peter sighed when Neal got inside. In the living room, the family Luc had told them about was sitting on the couch while some officers gently helped take the tape off of them.

"Think they're up for talking?" Neal asked, nodding at the family.

"There's only one way to find out," Peter shrugged, making his way over to them as the cops began to clear out.

"Excuse me," Peter's voice made the family look up at him. "I'm Special Agent Peter Burke. I'm with the FBI, and this is my consultant, Neal Caffrey."

"Can you tell us what happened?" Neal asked compassionately.

"I heard someone ring the doorbell," the mother—Karen Princeton, according to Peter's notes—spoke up, her voice shaking. "I opened the door...and there was a boy standing there...he couldn't have been much older than Kevin. He was soaking wet, shivering...I invited him inside to dry off...and then that man appeared behind him with a gun. I let them in..."

"I was in the kitchen," the father, Aaron, spoke up. "I saw the gun. He made Karen call the kids down, and then he moved us all in here. He told the kid to get some duct tape and make sure we couldn't go anywhere. He refused, so...the man hit him. He fell, and the man yelled at him, forced him to do what he said..."

"He just kept apologizing," the little girl, Angela, said, not looking up from the floor. "That's all he said when he was taping us up, 'I'm sorry'."

"The man told him to go upstairs and get changed," Aaron continued. "Once he was gone, he went over to the computer and looked up something up. After a few minutes, he went upstairs, and then a few minutes after that, the kid came back down. He told us that he called you guys, and then the man came back down, and they both left."

"About how long ago did they leave?" Peter asked.

"I don't know..." Aaron shook his head. "An hour, maybe an hour and a half ago."

"Ok, thanks," Peter nodded. "We'll let you know if we need anything else."

"Agent Burke," Peter stopped when Karen spoke up again. "Who was that boy? Do you know?"

Peter hesitated for a moment. "His name is Luc," he said at last, "and he has a father and a little brother who are really missing him right now." Karen nodded, looking down.

Peter forced a smile, and then he and Neal made their way over to the computer in the office, dying to know the answer to the question they were both thinking.

"Alright," Neal sighed, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and taking a seat at the computer, opening a browser window. "What were you looking for, David?"

The conman pulled up the browser history and clicked the most recent entry.

"He was getting directions," Peter muttered, looking at the page.

"Ok, where to, David?" Neal asked no one in particular. He clicked the button on the page that read 'My Last Search' and watched as a red line highlighted the route from the cabin...

"Oh my God..." Neal muttered. "Peter...isn't that...your address?"

His partner didn't answer. He was already calling Elizabeth. "Call Diana," Peter ordered. "Tell her to bring Jones and get over to my house."

Neal nodded, grabbing his phone.

"Hi, hun," Peter could almost see Elizabeth smiling when she answered the phone. "How's DC?"

"El, where are you?" Peter asked urgently.

"I'm out shopping," Elizabeth told him. "Why?"

"Don't go home, ok, El?" Peter warned. "Just, whatever you do, don't go home. Go to the office. Go see Reese."

"Peter, what's going on?" Elizabeth sounded worried.

"Elizabeth, I promise you, I will explain everything when I get back," Peter assured her. "I'm on my way."

* * *

><p><em><strong>It is important that you read the author's note in the beginning.<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>These quotes preview what will be happening next. Think you know what I'm planning? I'll bet you don't. Enjoy:<strong>_

_"I'm becoming a monster, just like you. After it all, you'll try to break me too..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Crawl"_

_"I keep holding onto you, but I can't bring you back to life. Sing the anthem of the angels, then say the last goodbye..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Anthem of the Angels"_

_"All I have is one last chance. I won't turn my back on you. Take my hand, drag me down. If you fall, then I will too. And I can't save what's left of you..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"_

_"I have nothing left. I can't face the dark without you. There's nothing left to lose, the fight never ends. I can't face the dark without you..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"_

_"I wanted to forgive. I'm trying to forgive. Don't leave me here again. I'm with you forever, the end..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"_


	11. Vermont

**_I'm not sure if I should be happy with my victory, or disappointed that it took a threat of discontinuation to get some reviews...  
>Lol, either way, thanks so much for the reviews, guys! It really means a lot! :D<br>These next few chapters are going to be really, really short, but I'll be posting them often, so don't worry too much._**

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><p><strong><strong>****_"A shadow of a man, I am nothing less. I am holding on, still holding on. And every now and then, life begins again. I am holding on, still holding on..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Crawl"_

* * *

><p>"Hey," Luc jolted awake, startled, when his uncle nudged his arm. The sun had set, and it was almost pitch black outside. "Wake up. We're almost there."<p>

"Where is 'there' exactly?" Luc asked, yawning and stretching.

"Vermont," David sighed. Luc looked out the window. All he saw around him were trees. He might as well have been back in Maryland.

Luc turned back to his uncle, and noticed the fast food wrappers in between them. He was about to say something snippy about how he could have woken him and given him something, but he bit his tongue, reminding himself that this was not a road trip with his uncle. His uncle had gone psycho, tried to kill his own brother, and then kidnapped him. He was nothing like his father. He was amazed that they were even related.

Before long, they arrived at a small house, and David pulled into the driveway, putting the car in park, and got out. "Let's go," he grunted, not in the mood for any back-talk. Luc scrambled out of the car and walked with his uncle towards the front door. The teen was both surprised and confused when David reached out and rang the doorbell.

A few moments passed, then the door opened. A man stood before them. Luc guessed that he was about the same age as his father, with dark hair that showed flecks of silver. The man smiled when he saw David.

"David," he laughed, reaching out and shaking David's hand. "It's good to see you. How long has it been?"

"Gotta be...seven years," David replied with a forced smile. "It's good to see you, too, Ray."

The man, Ray, seemed to notice Luc at that moment. "Who's this?" he asked.

"This is Luc," David introduced them. "Look, Ray, I need some help. I need to hide out for a while."

"Sure," Ray agreed, moving aside to let them in. David stepped inside, but Luc hesitated. He knew that he'd have next to no chance of escaping when he had two captors watching him. He made a split second decision. He started to go forward, into the house, but at the last second, he turned around and ran into the trees as fast as his legs could carry him. He ducked and dodged tree trunks, trying to put as much distance between him and his uncle as possible.

"Son of a bitch," David muttered, taking his gun from behind his back and racing after his nephew. Ray ran after them, wondering what was going on.

Luc didn't slow down, even after he heard David and Ray start to come after him. He called on energy reserves that he didn't know he had as he sprinted away from the house, towards potential freedom.

After a few minutes, the teen risked a glance over his shoulder. He couldn't see David or Ray, so he took this opportunity to duck behind a thick tree trunk and catch his breath. He froze when he heard his uncle and Ray's footsteps coming closer.

"Luc," David called. "Come on out. If you come quietly, I promise, I won't kill you."

Luc's heart raced. He was frozen in fear. He flattened himself against the tree trunk, wishing he could melt into the bark and hide.

A few moments passed, and Luc didn't hear anything, not even a footstep. Confused, he slowly, hesitantly, peered around the tree. He saw no one. The coast was clear. He was free. The young man let out a shaky sigh of relief, closed his eyes, and leaned back against the tree trunk. When he opened his eyes, he was terrified to find that he was staring down the barrel of a gun. When he forced himself to look past the gun at the person holding it, he saw his uncle, smirking at him. The terrified teen barely registered Ray standing beside him.

"Hiya, Sport," David grinned. "Now, I thought we talked about this on the first day."

"Please," Luc gasped, shaking, his eyes wide and fearful. "I'm sorry..."

David's hand was steady, his eyes cold. Any kindness that Luc had seen in him before it all went downhill was gone. Now, David didn't see him as his nephew. He saw him as his insurance policy. And if that insurance policy became more trouble than it was worth, then there would be nothing stopping him from taking it out of the equation.

David was quiet for a moment. Luc hardly dared to breathe. Finally, David sighed. "If I give you one last chance, Luc, are you going to listen to me from now on?"

"Yes," Luc said readily, his eyes pleading.

"Are you going to try and run again?" the murderer asked.

"No," Luc shook his head vigorously. "I promise, I won't, just...please..."

It seemed like an eternity before, finally, David smiled and lowered his gun, tucking it behind his back and chuckling softly. "Ah, I can never stay mad at you, Sport," he laughed, putting a strong arm around Luc's shoulders and pulling him back towards the house. Ray walked by their side as Luc, shaking like a leaf, let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

When the trio finally made it back to the house, David turned to Ray. "Is there anywhere I can stash the kid?" he asked.

Ray pointed to a door in the hallway. "The bathroom locks from the outside," he suggested.

"Thanks," David nodded, pulling Luc towards the door Ray had indicated. He yanked it open, then pushed Luc forward and into the bathroom. Luc stumbled and fell onto the tile floor. He looked back just in time to see David close the door, and to hear him lock him inside.

Luc sighed, letting his head fall. He struck out at the floor angrily, scolding himself for not being able to get away. He waited a moment, then crawled over to the door, pressing his ear against the wood, trying to hear what his captors were discussing. The voiced were muffled, but understandable.

"Now, what is this all about?" Ray asked with a sigh.

David hesitated. "You remember when Katherine died, right?" Ray must have nodded, because a heartbeat or two later, David continued, "Well, after she died, I hunted down the FBI agent that caused her death, and I killed him. But the FBI didn't know who did it, me or Anthony. So, we both had to go underground to avoid getting caught. Anyway, then some guy kidnapped Luc and Collin—you remember Anthony's kids—and forced Luc and Neal Caffrey to help him steal a painting. But then, Neal's FBI buddy, Agent Burke, came and ruined it all, and the guy ordered his partner to kill Luc, Collin, and Caffrey's daughter, and Anthony had to step in and save the day.

"So, Anthony took the boys, and he ran. Peter found out exactly who he was, that he was wanted for the murder of an FBI agent, and he confronted him. Anthony ran. Later, I asked him what happened, and he told me how close he had come to getting caught. I told him what I had done, and he freaked. We went outside to talk. He said he had to turn me in to Peter. I got mad...I hit him with a board...I killed him, Ray. Anthony's dead.

"Anyway, Luc saw the whole thing. He had called Peter, asked to talk. Luc rushed you to try and save Anthony, Peter showed up...I just...I panicked, Ray. I grabbed Luc, I used him as a shield, and I ran. Now, I'm keeping him with me just in case Peter and Neal catch up with me. Nothing better than a kid as a bargaining chip, huh?"

"This is bad, David..." Ray sighed. "This is...This is really, really bad..."

"You think I don't know that?" David snapped. "Look, I took care of it. I broke into a hunting cabin out in the woods. It shouldn't take too long for the FBI to figure out where we went. I used their computer to get directions back to Burke's address. G-man should be racing home as we speak."

"That misdirect will only work for so long, David," Ray reminded him.

"I know," David sighed. "I just need to figure out what to do next. I mean, I can get cash and the right papers. I can disappear. But it's going to take too long for me to get it together."

"Well, how about I help you out?" Ray offered. "I have a job that I'm going to take care of tomorrow night. There'll be a huge payday. I can cut you in. And I got a guy who can hook you and Luc up with everything you need inside a week. What do you say?"

David didn't need to be asked twice. "I'm in," he said reflexively.

"Great," Ray said. "You'll be out of here in no time."

"That's what I'm afraid of..." Luc muttered under his breath. Then he sighed, standing up and walking over to the linen closet. He grabbed a towel from inside and set it down on the floor. Then he lay down, using the towel as a pillow. He was terrified, but his exhaustion was starting to get the better of him. He was asleep almost as soon as he closed his eyes...

* * *

><p>"I don't think he's coming, Peter," Diana said wearily. She, Jones, Peter, and Neal had been sitting the Burke house for over five hours. They were all exhausted.<p>

"I think you're right," Peter sighed. "He's playing us. It was a misdirect. He never intended on coming here."

"So where does that leave us?" Neal yawned, rubbing his eyes.

Peter looked down. "Back at square one, I think," he said regretfully. There was a pause. "Alright, everybody go home, get some rest. We'll start again in the morning."

Everyone began to file out of the van, thankful for the dismissal. Neal, however, lingered. "Are you going to be ok, Peter?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Peter assured him. "I'm just...really, really dreading having to tell Anthony what happened..."

"I hear ya," Neal agreed. Then he sighed. "Listen, Peter...why don't I tell him? I mean I've known him longer. I think it would be better coming from me, anyway."

Peter looked at him in surprise. "Thanks, Neal," he nodded. "That would be great."

Neal nodded slightly, a half-smile on his face. Then he, too, exited the van.

Peter let out a weary groan. Now for the really hard part.

Explaining all of this to Elizabeth.


	12. The Sidelines

**_Rapid fire chapters! Haha please review guys, and thanks for reading!_**

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><p><em>"All I have is one last chance. I won't turn my back on you. Take my hand, drag me down. If you fall, then I will too. And I can't save what's left of you..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"<em>

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><p>The next morning, Neal walked over to Anthony's apartment. It was out of his radius, but Peter had called ahead to the Marshalls. If he took even a step off of his prescribed route, he was in trouble. But, judging by the guy in the baseball cap who looked suspiciously like Jones who had been following him since he left his apartment, Peter still wasn't taking any chances.<p>

_After all we've been through, you'd think he'd trust me more,_ the conman thought, shaking his head as he pressed the button and called up to Anthony's apartment. A few moments later, he was buzzed in. The conman got into the elevator and waited as it climbed to the third floor, then headed down the hall and knocked on door three-forty-seven. Anthony pulled it open moments later.

"Neal," the fellow thief smiled. "Come on in." Anthony moved aside to let the conman in. Neal stepped into the apartment, and Anthony closed the door behind him.

After a moment, Anthony turned to Neal. "So?" he asked expectantly. "Where's Luc? Is he alright?"

"Anthony, I..." Neal began.

"Neal," Anthony interrupted. "He's not..."

Neal shook his head. "He's alive...as far as we know," the consultant told him.

"As far as you know?" Anthony sounded panicked. "What do you mean, as far as you know?"

"We found where your brother was keeping Luc," Neal told him. "But when we went there to get him, David took off. With Luc."

Anthony was trying to keep the tears from his eyes. It wasn't working too well.

Neal went on. "We chased them through the forest. David turned onto a service road. He was going too fast, and...he drove off a cliff and into a lake."

"Oh my God..." Anthony muttered, barely holding it together.

"Luc was fine, Anthony," Neal assured him. "David pulled him out of the car, brought him up to the surface. Then the both swam underwater towards the shore. David found a cabin, made Luc help him break in. Once inside, he tied up the family who was staying there, and he and Luc got a change of clothes, took their car, and left. He got directions to Peter's house using the family's computer, so we thought he was going there."

"And?" Anthony asked expectantly.

"It was a misdirect," Neal sighed. "He never planned on going there."

"And now you have no idea where he's going with my son," Anthony finished.

"That's what I'm hoping you can help us with," Neal told him. "Is there anyone your brother would go to to help him? Anyone he trusts?"

"No," Anthony shook his head. "No, I know all of David's friends. They're my friends, too. We were a team. I can't think of anyone he would go to who wouldn't call me if he had my son, even if he told them I was dead. They would all call to make sure, at least...except..." Anthony trailed off.

Neal jumped on the opening, "Except who, Anthony?"

Anthony didn't respond, going to the phone and picking it up, dialing a number. After a few moments, the other person answered.

"Hey, Greg, it's Anthony," the desperate father sighed. "What are you and your brother up to?" there was a pause, and Anthony's eyes lit up as he grabbed a pen and began scribbling something down on the message pad. "Really?" Anthony sounded interested. "That sounds great. Good for you guys...Oh, yeah, no, I'm fine. Thanks...Yeah, just checking in, seeing what was new with you guys...Ok, well, I'll talk to you later, Greg...Yeah...Bye," Anthony hung up and tore off the page on the message pad.

"Ray Hampton. He and his brother, Greg, are friends with me and David. Well, Greg is my friend. Ray...I've never liked or trusted him, and he's felt the same way. But he and David were close. He's the only one I can think of who David would turn to but who wouldn't call me," Anthony said. "And Greg just told me that Ray is having this huge deal tonight. In New York."

"What kind of deal?" Neal asked.

"Oh, Ray's an arms dealer," Anthony told him. He saw the look on Neal's face and smiled slightly. "Now you see why I don't like him. Greg's an...art dealer. Like us. And Greg was nice enough to give me the address of where the meeting is going to take place." Anthony held up the piece of paper in his hands. "Even if David's not there, if you can get Ray, he can take you to David and Luc."

Neal reached out and took the paper from him, grabbing his phone and calling Peter.

"Yeah, Peter, it's me," Neal sighed. "We got an idea of how to find Luc and David...Yeah, Anthony thinks he knows who he went to...Great, I'll grab Jones and we'll meet you there...Oh please, Peter. I knew he was following me...Ok, see you there." Neal hung up the phone and turned to Anthony. "We're going to take care of this, Anthony," he said definitively. Anthony opened his mouth to protest, but Neal put up his hand to silence him. "I know it's hard, but you need to stay here and do nothing. It hurts like hell, not being able to do anything. Believe me, I know. But the best thing you can do for Luc is stay here."

"Neal, I can't just..." Anthony began.

"But you have to," Neal interrupted. "We can't be worrying about you when we're trying to get Luc back home."

"But Neal," Anthony tried to protest.

"Anthony, you have to trust us," Neal, once again, didn't let him finish. "You have to trust _me_. I promise you, I will bring your son home, ok? I promise."

Anthony hesitated. Then he sighed and nodded. "Ok," he agreed. "I trust you, Neal."

Neal nodded, a reassuring smile on his face. Then he turned and headed out the door.

Anthony smiled when Neal was gone. That man was a great art thief, an excellent forger, and a master of the con. But if he really, truly thought he was going to sit on the sidelines, then he was either delusional, or losing his touch...

* * *

><p>Luc was already awake, sitting on the edge of the tub, staring off into space, when David opened the door.<p>

"Let's go, Luc," the murderer commanded. "We've got a long drive to New York."

The teenager sighed and got to his feet...then quickly sat back down, bracing himself on the tub. Pins and needles danced over his skin. His vision swam, going almost totally dark. It felt as though gravity suddenly got a hundred times stronger...either that, or his legs couldn't support his weight anymore.

"Luc?" To Luc's surprise, David actually sounded concerned. "Luc, what's wrong?"

Luc blinked a few times, raising his hand to his face and rubbing his eyes. His muscles shook visibly with the effort, but his vision went back to normal. The teen shook his head to clear it, then stood up again, though this time much more slowly. The pins and needles returned, and his vision got darker, but it wasn't as severe as before, and his body seemed to correct itself on its own.

"Ah, nothing..." Luc told him, though he didn't sound very sure. He wasn't entirely sure about his uncle's state of mind, but he was sure that he didn't want to piss him off by complaining. "I'm...I'm fine..."

David studied him for a moment. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Luc hesitated, then nodded.

David didn't seem convinced, but after a heartbeat or two, he nodded. "Ok," he sighed. "Let's go."

Luc walked toward his uncle, focusing on making sure that the incredible dizziness, the black on the edges of his vision, the sudden increase in the strength of gravity, and how much he was shaking wouldn't be too apparent to his captor. It wasn't working very well. The few steps to the door were exhausting. He was breathing heavily, and his heart raced. As soon as he crossed the threshold of the bathroom, be felt the dizziness become stronger, and he grabbed the door handle, using it to support himself.

David reached out and grabbed his nephew's arm, steadying him. "Luc, what's wrong?" he demanded.

"It's nothing," Luc did his best to downplay the situation.

"It's not nothing," David said sternly. "You walked five steps and almost collapsed. What's wrong?"

_My stomach feels like there are little people with axes hacking at it, I haven't eaten in almost five days, I'm exhausted, I'm going to pass out if I walk any more, and I'm being held captive by a psycho who could kill me at any moment. What could be better? _ Luc thought bitterly.

"I'm fine, really," Luc insisted. "I'm just a little dizzy, that's all. Come on, I don't want to make you late."

David's eyes narrowed. "If you're fine, then let go of that door handle and walk across the room."

Luc hesitated, unsure if he could. Finally, not wanting to fight with him again, he let go of the door handle, and David let go of his arm. Already, Luc felt dizzy, but still, he tried to force himself to walk across the room. He did well at first, even though he was still shaking like a leaf. Then the pins and needles feeling came back, and gravity began pressing down on him like an anvil on his back. The darkness began to encroach on his vision. Luc sank to his knees to try and avoid passing out completely. He put his hands on the ground, staring down at the beige carpet, his breathing heavy. As his vision began to clear, he noticed how pale his skin had become, how clearly he could see the bones and veins in his hands.

"Luc," David had dropped to one knee beside him. "Luc, look at me."

With a great deal of effort, Luc raised his head to look at his uncle. The dark bruise and dark red cut on his cheek contrasted drastically with his skin.

David studied him for a moment. "Wait here," he said finally, as if Luc could have gone anywhere. Luc let his head drop as David stood up. The teen heard him walk into the kitchen and open one of the cabinets. A second or two later, he closed it again and went to Luc. Luc felt him grab his arm and pull him to his feet. Luc swayed slightly, but David steadied him. Together, the two of them made their way out to Ray's car. Ray was already there, in the driver's seat, with the engine idling. David helped Luc into the back seat of the car. Once he was settled, David handed something to him.

"Try those," he suggested, then closed the door and climbed into the passenger seat. Luc examined the bag his uncle had given him. He was pleasantly surprised when he discovered that it was a bag of three bagels. They looked like the most delicious food on the planet to the starving teen, and he tore eagerly into the bag, grabbing a bagel and taking a bite.

Luc was absolutely starving, all the hiking through the woods and failed escape attempts adding to his exhaustion and his hunger, and devoured all three bagels in just seven minutes.

"Feel better?" David asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror. Luc nodded gratefully.

"Good," David approved. "If this goes wrong, I don't want my insurance policy to drop dead before I can use him."

Luc was silent, and turned to look out the window, surprised at the disappointment he felt. For a moment, there, David had acted like the uncle Luc remembered. Granted, before his dad came back, he only met the man about seven times, but every time, he had been kind and funny. Now he was a monster. And if Luc was going to survive, he had to let go of the idea of David ever being the way he used to be...


	13. Sniper

**_There's still more to come! Thanks for reading, guys, and please review!  
>WOW, these chapters are short...<em>**

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><p><em>"I have nothing left. I can't face the dark without you. There's nothing left to lose, the fight never ends. I can't face the dark without you..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"<em>

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><p>Peter, Neal, Jones, and Diana were packed into the van, monitoring cameras they had set up to spy on the abandoned factory where Ray Hanover was going to have his exchange. Snipers were in place, there were plainclothes officers strolling through the streets, and everyone was on edge. Night had fallen. It was almost ten; the deal was supposed to go down in fifteen minutes.<p>

Just then, a big SUV pulled around to the back of the factory. The team watched as a team of about ten men got out of the car. Four of them carried shiny metal briefcases.

"Ok, that must be Ray's buyer," Peter muttered. "So where's Ray?"

Five minutes later, the guest of honor arrived. Ray pulled in behind the buyer's car. The four of them watches as the doors opened and three people got out. No one could deny that they were surprised to see Luc there. They watched, waiting for the right moment, as Ray opened the trunk and started handing heavy-looking crates to Luc, stacking them three high. The weakened boy was almost snapping under the weight, but he managed to stay upright. David took the remaining three crates, and then Ray closed the trunk. The three of them made their way into the building.

A few minutes passed in tense silence as they listened to the bugs they planted in the factory.

"Oh God," Peter muttered, looking at one of the monitors.

"What?" Neal asked his partner. Peter pointed to a figure on the screen.

"No, no, no...damn it...what is he doing?" Neal muttered.

The FBI agents in the van watched in horror as Anthony made his way through the back door and into the factory...

* * *

><p>"Ray," the man with the jet black hair and dark eyes smiled. He was surrounded by nine other men. "It's good to see you."<p>

"It's good to see you, too, Simon," Ray smiled, walking around a long-forgotten piece of machinery. Luc followed his uncle's lead as David placed the crates on the conveyer belt that stretched between the two parties.

Simon's men held up their briefcases. "As promised," Simon smiled. "Four million dollars in cash."

"Excellent," Ray smiled. "I'm sure you'll find that I held up my end of the bargain as well."

Simon and his team made their way to the crates, opening the ones on top. Simon smiled, pulling out a MAC-10 and loading it. Luc tensed, on edge. His heart began to race as all ten men gradually became armed with the guns.

"Very nice, as always, Ray," Simon approved.

"David!" Everyone in the factory turned to look at where the voice was coming from. Luc's face lit up upon seeing who had arrived.

"Dad," he smiled. Beside him, Ray and David looked like they had just seen a ghost.

"Anthony," David gasped. "You're...I thought you were..."

"Dead?" Anthony guessed. "Yeah, not quite."

Suddenly, the front and back doors burst open. "FBI!" someone shouted, "Don't move! Keep your hands where we can see them!"

"Drop the guns!" someone else called out.

Simon and his people did the exact opposite, aiming the guns at the approaching agents. There were fifteen total. David saw Peter among them and his eyes widened. He drew the gun from behind his back and grabbed Luc, using him as a shield.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around, Sport," David whispered in his nephew's ear as he aimed the gun at his head.

"David," Peter spoke up. "Just let Luc go so nobody has to get hurt." Ahead of him, Anthony glared at his brother in hatred.

"No," David refused. "Either I walk out of here, or the kid dies."

"You're not walking out of here, David," Peter shook his head, his voice firm.

"Well then, I guess Luc dies," David chuckled. Luc's breathing came in short, ragged gasps, his heart pounding.

Outside, a sniper had David in his sights. A shot to the back the head would end it all, and Luc would be safe. He had been told that if he had the shot, he should take it. He hesitated another second or two, lining up his shot...


	14. Anthem of the Angels

**_That's right, two quotes for this chapter! Haha, they both fit so well, I couldn't decide which to pick...  
>Thanks again for reading, and please review!<em>******

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><p><em>"I'm becoming a monster, just like you. After it all, you'll try to break me too..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Crawl"<br>"I keep holding onto you, but I can't bring you back to life. Sing the anthem of the angels, then say the last goodbye..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Anthem of the Angels"_

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><p>Ray glanced at David. He was slightly behind his friend, and he saw the red dot appear on the back of his head. He knew what that meant.<p>

"David, look out!" he cried, stepping forward and shoving his friend out of the way, just as the sniper fired. Ray didn't say another word, and dropped to concrete floor, his eyes still open, a hole in his temple.

The shot set off a deadly chain reaction. Everybody started shooting, agents and criminals alike. Anthony got hit in the shoulder and went down, though that was mostly to avoid the other bullets flying. Simon and his people took cover behind some machinery, firing at the agents. The agents took cover behind old crates and other pieces of machinery. David and Luc separated, so David was holding his young hostage by the arm, for just a spit second before David saw a stack of crates he could dive behind.

Beside him, Luc gasped. How David heard it over the gunfire, he wasn't sure, but when he turned to look, Luc had a dark red spot blooming in the center of his sweatshirt, and he fell to the floor. David cursed to himself, pulling Luc behind the crates.

The young teen was coughing up blood, struggling to breathe. He was staring up at his uncle with terrified eyes.

"Pl...Please," Luc choked, unable to breathe.

But David had no intention of helping the young man. Not anymore. His heart was now cold. He felt nothing when he looked at the teen who was clinging to life. He only saw a liability. It was for this reason that David raised his gun, and took aim at his nephew's head...

* * *

><p>Anthony was down on the ground. Most of the bad guys were dead. Only three—Simon, one of his men, and David—were left standing. Speaking of his brother...<p>

He looked around the factory, trying to locate David and Luc. He finally found them behind a stack of crates. He took in the sight of David's gun aimed at Luc's head, and his heart skipped a beat. The man looked around desperately for a gun. He found one just a foot away from where he lay, presumably dropped by one of the fallen villains. He scooped it up quickly, and flicked the safety off.

"David!" he shouted, taking aim. He brother turned to look at him, and Anthony fired. His bullet buried itself between his brother's eyes. He was dead instantly. By then, Simon and his remaining man had surrendered. The coast was clear. Anthony quickly scrambled to his feet and ran to his son's side. Blood soaked the young man's sweatshirt and stained his face. Anthony turned him on his side to help him breathe.

"Luc," Anthony said urgently, putting pressure on the gushing bullet wound. "You're going to be ok, alright? Stay with me. Just stay with me, Luc, come on..." Luc's eyes were petrified, yet also relieved, as he looked up at his father.

"Peter!" Anthony called, not taking his eyes off his son. "Peter!"

The FBI man was quickly at their side. "An ambulance is on its way, Luc," Agent Burke told the dying teen. "Just hang in there. You're going to be fine."

Luc was breathing a little easier, now that he was on his side, but he still wasn't getting enough air. His weakened state didn't help matters. Everything started to look out of focus, blurry. Sounds were distant, faded, like echoes.

"Stay with me, Luc," Anthony urged, tears running down his face as the sirens came closer. "Please, just hold on. I can't lose you, Luc...please..."

Luc began to feel numb. Not pins and needles, just completely and totally numb. His pain began to dissipate. His eyes began to close. His desperate gasps became less desperate.

"No!" Anthony cried, terrified and helpless, as he watched his son die. Peter looked on, powerless to help. "No, Luc, please!"

The paramedics arrived. Anthony was forced away from his son's side. Luc barely processed any of it. The last thing he remembered before it all went black was the paramedics loading him into the back of the ambulance and speeding off.

After that, he saw nothing. He heard nothing. He felt nothing. He feared nothing and no one. He was peaceful.

He was free.


	15. Brain Damage

**_Hey guys! Thanks for reading. I hope you like this chapter, and please, don't forget to review!_**

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><p><em>"I wanted to forgive. I'm trying to forgive. Don't leave me here again. I'm with you forever, the end..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Without You"<em>

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><p>"Anthony," the sleep-deprived father looked up from the floor of the hospital waiting room to see Neal standing before him. "You need to go home, get some rest."<p>

Anthony shook his head. "No," he refused. "I'm not leaving until I hear news on my son."

"Anthony, Luc survived one of the most dismal situations our society has to offer. Twice," Neal reminded his friend. "He is one of the strongest kids I have ever met. He's going to make it through surgery. It's all going to be fine."

Anthony let out a humorless chuckle. "Fine?" the man sounded more than doubtful. "Neal, my wife was murdered. My son may not make it through the night. I just...I just killed my own brother..." he paused, still struck by the loss of his brother despite everything that happened. "I can promise you, nothing is ever going to be 'fine' in my life ever again..."

"That's not true, Anthony," Neal said firmly. "I mean, nothing is ever going to be the same again, sure, but that doesn't mean nothing will ever be bearable ever again. You still have Collin. Collin needs you, Anthony. You can't give up."

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Neal," Anthony admitted softly. "I don't know what I'm going to be able to do if I lose Luc..."

"You're not going to lose him," Neal said firmly. "Don't give up on him, Anthony. Luc needs you, too. If you give up, he has no reason to hold on."

Anthony knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier for him.

There was a silence between them for a moment.

"Luc Hale?" a doctor asked. Anthony rose to his feet and made his way over to the young doctor.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I'm Luc's father."

"Your son is still in surgery," the doctor told him. "The bullet tore through his left lung, hit a rib, ricocheted, narrowly missed his heart, and finally lodged in his T-5 vertebrae."

"It hit his spine?" Anthony asked, alarmed. "What does that mean?"

"As far as we can tell, his spinal cord was not damaged," the doctor assured him. "There shouldn't be any problems removing the bullet. For the most part, we have the bleeding under control. But the thing we're worried about now is his head."

"His head?" Anthony was confused. "What about his head?"

"It appears that when your son collapsed, he hit his head on the floor, which worsened his previous injury," the man explained.

"How bad?" Anthony asked, getting straight to the point.

The doctor sighed, "Your son fractured his skull. His brain was damaged. There appears to be quite a lot of swelling."

"What are his chances?" the distraught father asked softly.

The doctor hesitated. "Well, nothing's for sure," he began. Anthony felt his heart clench and sink, "but with the amount of swelling...he has about a sixty percent chance of surviving surgery. After that, I'd put his odds at about fifty percent for making it through the night. As for waking up from the coma he has a ninety-nine percent chance of falling into...I'd say he has about a thirty-five to forty percent chance. And if he _does_ wake up, he's definitely going to have some brain damage."

Anthony felt the lump in his throat grow, choking off his hair supply. He sat down in the nearest chair, not trusting himself to stand up anymore. Hearing the odds, he suddenly felt cold. He hated feeling so helpless when his son's life was hanging in the balance.

But there was nothing he could do.

He had no control over whether or not his son lived.

Only Luc and God could control that

All he could do was hope and pray that his son would wake up...


	16. Nightmare

_**Hello again, everybody! As always, thanks for reading! I hope you like this chapter. Please review and tell me how I did. Thanks!**_

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><p><em><span>"Now the dark begins to rise. Save your breath, it's far from over. Leave the lost and dead behind. Now's your chance to run for cover..." -Breaking Benjamin, "I Will Not Bow"<span>_

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><p>"<em>Where am I?" Luc looked around the room he was in. He didn't recognize it at all. There were about five or six people dressed in strange outfits gathered around something in the middle of the room. "What are you all looking at?" Luc asked. No one answered him. "Hello? Anybody?" Still, nothing. The teen sighed and made his way over to them, peering around them. When he did, he gasped.<em>

"_Oh my God..." he breathed. "What the hell? Is that me?"_

_A teenage boy lay on a metal table, a hole in his chest, a breathing tube down his throat. The boy had Luc's face._

_Luc jumped back. "Oh my God..." he repeated. "Ok...ok, I'm dreaming. That's it. I'm dreaming. This is all just a dream. Yeah..."_

_The young man slowly began to remember what happened to him. He was kidnapped by his uncle. He was starved. He was shot. He was...definitely alive...right?_

"_Oh yeah, I'm dreaming," Luc decided. "They gave me a drug to knock me out, and I'm dreaming. That has to be it."_

"_Oh, yeah, you're dreaming, Sport," Luc whirled around to see where the voice had come from. Who he saw leaning against the wall made him gasp and take a step back._

"_There's no question about that," David continued. "The question is, are you going to wake up? Or are you going to die?"_

"_How..." Luc choked out. "You're...You're dead...Dad killed you. I saw him..."_

"_Yes, Luc, I am dead," David confirmed. "But that doesn't matter here. In your head...I'm still very much alive."_

"_You're not real..." Luc shook his head._

"_Yes, Luc, I am," David laughed. "Well, as real as I can be, since I'm in your head."_

"_Stay away from me," Luc ordered, stumbling toward the door. "Stay the hell away from me!" the teen turned and ran, dashing through the doors and turning down a long hallway. He skidded to a stop when David appeared in front of him._

"_Aw, come on, Sport," David grinned. "Don't be like that."_

"_I said stay away from me," Luc growled, backing up again. "Don't come any closer!"_

"_Alright, you know what? Fine," David shrugged, a small smile still on his face. "You don't want me around? I'm gone. But then you're going to have to stay here forever."_

"_What are you talking about?" Luc demanded._

"_You see, Luc," David explained with a grin. "If you want to get out of here and wake up, you're going to have to not only navigate yourself back through your screwed up little head, but you're going to have to get past me." Luc was silent, his eyes wide, taking a small step back._

"_And you know what?" David continued. "I've got the home court advantage here."_

"_It's my head!" Luc protested._

"_Too bad," David chuckled. "I'm still the ringleader." At that moment, the hospital was gone, and they were standing in a forest._

"_Here's how this works," David told him. "If you can avoid me killing you, and find your way out of here, then you are free to go and live your life. If I catch you and I kill you, then game over, Sport. You're dead and gone."_

"_You're not going to kill me," Luc stated, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. "This is my head. This is my dream. This is my head, and I don't want to die, so you can't kill me."_

"_Well, obviously, some part of you wants to die, otherwise I wouldn't be here," David rolled his eyes. "If you completely, totally, one hundred percent whole-heartedly wanted to live, then I wouldn't be here. It would just be you against your injuries. But I'm here, so some part of you wants to die."_

_Luc didn't answer, shocked into silence._

"_Well go on," David said after a moment. "Run. I'll give you a twenty second head start. Ready, set, GO!"_

_Unsure what else to do, Luc took off, racing through the trees as fast as he could, which was pretty fast in his dream world. He was so confused. Somehow, he had to figure out his own mind. His life—literally—depended on it._


	17. Fifty Percent

_**Hello again, everybody! As always, thanks for reading! Please review and tell me how I did. Thanks!**_

* * *

><p><em><em>"I am losing you again. Let me out and let me in, 'cause you're not alone here, not at all..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Break My Fall"<em>_

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><p>Anthony rubbed his shoulder, wincing in pain as his hand brushed over the gauze protecting his gunshot wound. He stared down at the tile floor beneath his shoes, praying that the doctor would come with good news.<p>

Neal nudged his arm, jolting him from his thoughts. The conman pointed to a man who had emerged from behind the double doors that led to the OR.

"That's Dr. Rhea," Neal told him. "Looks like he's got news for us."

The two men stood up and made their way towards the approaching doctor.

"Doc," Neal said, getting the other man's attention. "What happened?"

"Luc made it through surgery," Rhea told them. "But, as we expected, he has fallen into a coma. The swelling in his brain has already started to go down, which is good, but it's still unclear whether or not he's going to make it through the night."

Anthony let out a shuddering breath, trying to keep his composure. "Can I see him?" he asked at last.

Dr. Rhea nodded. "We have him set up in the ICU on the third floor, room 373."

"Thanks, Doc," Neal smiled. Anthony was already headed for the elevator.

"No problem, Neal," Rhea smiled back, then walked off.

"Neal," the conman turned when he heard Peter call his name.

"Hey, Peter," Neal greeted him. "Finally manage to get away?"

"Yeah," Peter confirmed. "How's the kid?"

"He made it through surgery," Neal told him. "But he's in a coma. He hit his head when he fell, and his brain was swelling. The docs gave him a fifty-fifty shot of making it through the night, and a thirty-five to forty percent chance of waking up after that."

"I'm guessing that Anthony was heading to his room," Peter said, nodding in the direction of the elevator. Neal nodded.

"Look, Neal," Peter sighed. "I know you want to stay here and support your friend, but you haven't slept much since you got kidnapped. You need to go home and get some rest. I'll stay here with Anthony and let you know if anything happens."

Neal opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again, knowing his partner was right. He let out a weary sigh.

"Fine," he agreed grudgingly. "He's in room 373. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Neal," Peter smiled. He watched as his partner left the hospital and started towards his home. When he could no longer see the conman, he turned and started for the elevator...

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><p>Anthony sat beside his son's bed, holding his hand. He had never seen his son look so fragile before. His skin was pale. He was incredibly thin. There was a breathing tube down his throat. IV tubes were stuck into the boy's arms, giving him the vital nutrients that he had missed out on for so long. The heart monitor beside his bed beeped steady, the only reassurance for the worried father.<p>

"Come on, Luc," Anthony urged softly. "Just hold on, ok. Hold on for me. I can't lose you, Luc...please..."

But Luc didn't answer. His eyes remained closed, his body motionless except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. Anthony only prayed that this motion would continue, and that, soon, his son would open his eyes and speak...


	18. Flat Line

_**Hello again, everybody! As always, thanks for reading! Please review and tell me how I did. Thanks!**_

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><p><em><em><span>"And I know that you don't like the way that it goes. We're all in, so begin. Just remember: I win..." –Breaking Benjamin, "No Games"<span>  
><span>"Don't pull me under, into the deep. I often wonder, how it should be..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Believe"<span>  
><span>"And I die to win, 'cause I'm born to lose..." –Breaking Benjamin, "Firefly"<span>__

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><p><em>Luc felt like he had been running for days. As he came to the top of a hill, he finally stopped to catch his breath and look around. All around him, everything looked the same: trees endless in every direction. He had no idea where to go next, but he didn't want David to catch up with him, so he had to make a choice. With a sigh, Luc started walking to his left, weaving his way through the trees.<em>

_"Luc?" A familiar voice made the boy stop dead in his tracks. Slowly, as if afraid he had imagined it, he turned around. Who he saw confirmed his suspicions, and caused a lump to form in his throat._

_"Mom?" he choked out, unable to believe his eyes. His mother smiled at him, and Luc quickly rushed into her arms, hugging her tightly and not wanting to let go. After a moment or two, he reluctantly pulled away._

_"Mom, what's going on?" Luc asked. "Uncle David said that...some part of me wanted to die, and that if he killed me in here, I would die out there, but...I mean, I don't know what to do. I don't even know where to go..."_

_"Sweetheart, it's ok," Sasha Hale soothed. "It's all going to be ok. I'll help you in any way that I can. You're going to make it out of here, alright?"_

_Luc took a deep breath, and nodded._

_"Good," Sasha nodded. "Now come on. Follow me."_

_Together, the two of them started walking in the opposite direction that Luc had been heading. Luc was on edge, always looking over his shoulder, jumping at even the slightest sound._

_"Luc, would you relax?" Sasha scolded. "I haven't seen you this jumpy since your father let you watch The Blair Witch 2 when you were seven."_

_Luc laughed slightly at the memory, but he didn't relax. "Sorry, Mom," Luc sighed. "I just really, really don't want to die..."_

_"I understand," Sasha nodded._

_"Where are we going?" Luc asked after a moment._

_"It's your head, Luc," Sasha reminded him. "You tell me."_

_"Mom, if I knew where I was going and knew where I had to go, I wouldn't have a problem," Luc sighed._

_"Don't get snippy, Luc," Sasha snapped. "You're the reason I'm dead, anyway."_

_Luc stopped dead in his tracks. "What?" his voice was soft, just barely above a whisper, as his heart clenched._

_Sasha whirled on him. "You heard what I said," she growled. "It's your fault that I'm dead! If you hadn't gotten mixed up with Matthew McCall, I'd be alive right now!"_

_"I didn't seek them out, Mom!" Luc protested. "They found me. I was trying to do the right thing! I didn't..."_

_"You didn't think they'd actually kill me?" Sasha guessed. "Well, guess what, Luc. They did."_

_His mother's words caused Luc to flinch, as if she had slapped him. "I didn't know," Luc argued weakly. "It wasn't my fault...It wasn't my fault..."_

_"It was your job to protect this family after your father left," Sasha shouted, her words like poison. "It was up to you! You failed us, Luc. You failed us, and you let me die."_

_"No," Luc shook his head, choking on tears. "No..."_

_"Yes," Sasha nodded. "Why are you even fighting, Luc? Why do you even want to go back there?"_

_"You're not my mom," Luc tried to convince himself. He knew it was true, but some voice in his head second guessed himself._

_"Why do you want to go back to a world, where all you do is screw up and cause other people pain?" Sasha continued as if he hadn't spoken._

_"Stop it!" Luc ordered, covering his ears, trying not to hear anymore._

Beep...

_"You're a failure, Luc," Sasha's voice was cold. Luc couldn't block her out, no matter how hard he tried._

Beep...

_"You're a failure, and you're going to lose."_

Beep...

_"You don't know that!" Luc shot back. "You're wrong! I'm not going to lose! I'm not going to die!"_

Beep...

_"Yes you are," Sasha's voice was absolute. "You're going to die. There's no two ways about it."_

Beep...

_"Really?" Luc challenged, his anger level rising. "How do you know?"_

Beep...

_"Because, Sport," Luc whirled around and froze when he saw David standing behind him, aiming a gun at his head. "Between you and me, there's really no contest. You're going to lose, because I'm going to win."_

Beep...

_Luc took a small step back, his eyes wide and fearful. He wanted to run, but he couldn't make his legs work anymore..._

Beep...

_"See ya on the other side, Sport," David smiled._

Beep...

_Luc closed his eyes and braced himself._

Beep...

_Then the shot rang out..._

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep...


	19. Man's Best Friend

_**Hello again, everybody! As always, thanks for reading! Please review and tell me how I did. Thanks!**_

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><p><em><em>"Stay with me, you're all I have left. I know we can make it out alive..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Into the Nothing"<br>"Only the strongest will survive. Lead me to heaven when we die. I am the shadow on the wall. I'll be the one to save us all..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Blow Me Away"  
>"Now you want to take me down, as if I even care. I am the monster in your head, and I thought you'd learn by now" ... "I am the venom in your skin, and now your life is broken..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Lights Out"<em>_

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><p>"Luc!" Anthony shouted desperately from the wall by the door. Out of nowhere, his son had flat-lined. Now three or four doctors and nurses were clustered around his body, trying to bring him back. Peter looked on in silence from the doorway.<p>

"Charging three hundred," one of the nurses said. There was a power hum as the defibrillator in Dr. Rhea's hands charged.

"Clear!" Dr. Rhea ordered. Once everyone was out of the way, the doctor pressed the buttons on paddles, pumping electricity into Luc's body. Luc seized up, his back arching, before falling flat once more. The line on his heart monitor was still showed no signs of life.

"No response," someone said.

"Go again," Dr. Rhea ordered.

"Charging," the nurse said obediently.

"Clear!"

_Beeeeeeeep..._

"Nothing."

"Go again!" Dr. Rhea sounded determined.

"Josh," the other doctor spoke up. "Let it go. He's gone."

"I said: Go. Again," Rhea growled.

The other doctor sighed, and the nurse once again charged the paddles.

"Clear!"

_Beeeeeeeep..._

"Still nothing."

"Josh," the other doctor was a little more stern this time. "Give it up."

"Again," Rhea commanded.

The doctor trying to talk Rhea down and the nurse charging the paddles exchanged glances. Then the nurse obediently charged the paddles one more time.

"Clear!"

_Beep...Beep...Beep..._

"He's back," the remaining nurse said with a sigh.

Both Peter and Anthony let out sighs of relief. Dr. Rhea looked up at Anthony. The two locked eyes, and Anthony nodded gratefully. Rhea smiled, then replaced the paddles on the defibrillator.

"Hey, Kyle," Rhea said, getting the attention of the doctor who had tried to convince him to let Luc die. "I vote that from now on, we listen to the crazy doctor. Ok?"

The other doctor, Kyle, rolled his eyes, and then they all left the room. Dr. Rhea gave a reassuring smile to Peter and Anthony as he left the room.

Anthony dragged his chair back over to his son's side and sat down, as if he had never left.

"You don't have to stay, Peter," he said, not taking his eyes off his son. "You have to be tired after all this."

"I'm fine," Peter assured the man.

"Peter, I'll be fine," Anthony assured him. "Go home. Get some rest. You deserve it after all you've done for us."

Peter had to admit, he _was_ exhausted. The FBI man hesitated. "Are you sure?" he asked at last.

"Yeah," Anthony nodded. "I'm sure."

Again, Peter hesitated. "Alright," he agreed finally. "Call me if you need anything." Anthony nodded, and after another moment, Peter turned and left, leaving Anthony alone with his son...

* * *

><p><em>Luc's eyes bolted open, and he sat up, breathing heavily. He looked around, but couldn't see anyone...except Shadow.<em>

_"What the hell?" the teen muttered, studying the dog who stood before him. Shadow wagged his tail, waiting for Luc to do something. "Wow, my head must be seriously screwed up," he chuckled, shaking his head. Shadow barked at him, causing him to jump._

_"Jeez," Luc muttered. "Don't do that!"_

_Shadow clamped his teeth onto Luc's sweatshirt sleeve and pulled, then let go and barked again._

_"Ok, ok, I get it, I'm coming," Luc sighed, getting to his feet. He followed the dog as he began to trot through the trees._

_What felt like several hours passed in complete silence. Luc was left alone with his thoughts. He kept replaying the conversation with his mother over and over in his head. Was she right? Was it really his fault that she was gone? Part of him was sure it wasn't true. But the other part wasn't so sure..._

_Shadow's bark jolted him from his thoughts. The two of them stood in the middle of a small clearing. In the middle of it was a door. A totally random, seemingly pointless door._

_"Ok, what the hell kind of drugs are these doctors giving me?" Luc wondered out loud. Shadow sat in front of the door, pawing at it, and looking at Luc expectantly._

_"I'm taking directions from a dog," the teenager muttered. "I have officially lost my mind..."_

_Still, Luc stepped forward and reached for the shiny gold doorknob. He twisted it, and then pulled the door open and stepped through the doorway. Shadow followed close behind. Luc looked around, his eyes wide, as he realized that he was no longer standing in the forest._

_"What the...?" Luc breathed. He was standing in the middle of a carnival. The sounds of the games and the screams of children as they raced over the rollercoaster's tracks filled the air. The smell of hotdogs and funnel cakes wafted to his nose, so real he could almost taste it. People milled around him, not even giving him a second glance._

_"I'm impressed, Sport," Luc jumped when David appeared before him. The teen took a step back, his eyes wide, and Shadow growled low in his throat, baring his teeth. "I didn't think you were going to be able to make it out of there. Then again, I also thought I killed you..."_

_"What do you want?" Luc demanded._

_"I already told you," David sounded annoyed. "I'm the part of you that wants you dead. I am the exact opposite of man's best friend, over here. He's the part that wants you to live. And then there's you, the one we're both trying to get to."_

_"I have one screwed up little head..." Luc muttered._

_"Well, anyway," David continued, "since you survived my first attempt, I think it's only fair that we have a restart. Twenty seconds. Ready, set, go!"_

_Just like that, his uncle was gone._

_Luc shook his head. "When I wake up, I'm checking into a mental institution," he swore. Shadow barked at him, urging him on. He sighed, then followed the Retriever as he weaved through the crowds of people..._


	20. Guilty

_**Hello, everyone! I hope you like this chapter. I think it's pretty sad. Almost done with this story, but I think I might have another idea. I'll put it at the end of the last chapter and you guys can tell me what you think. I'm not sure where it will go, but, it can't hurt to hear what you guys think lol. Anyway, enjoy, and please review!**_

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><p><em><em>"Into the nothing, faded and weary, I won't leave and let you fall behind. Live for the dying, heaven, hear me, I know we can make it out alive..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Into the Nothing"<br>"Why give up, why give in? It's not enough, it never is. So I will go on until the end..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Until the End"  
>"The final fight I'll win, but I will go on until the end..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Until the End"<br>"Worthless, it's over now. Guilty, there's no way out. I cannot hold on, I will not let go..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Hopeless"__

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><p>"<em>Ok, how big is this damn carnival?" Luc complained as he and Shadow passed what had to be the seventh Ferris wheel they'd seen. As he expected, he didn't get an answer. Suddenly, the crowd began to thin out.<em>

"_And, cue the random door," the teen sighed. Just as he suspected, in the middle of the parking lot stood a completely random, seemingly pointless door, just like the first._

"_How much longer am I going to have to do this?" Luc muttered, shaking his head and reaching for the doorknob._

"_Luc," the voice made the teenager freeze. Slowly, he turned his head to see who had spoken._

"_Neal," Luc couldn't help but be surprised. "What are you doing here?"_

"_You know why I'm here," the conman smiled. Beside Luc, Shadow growled._

"_No, I really don't," Luc told him truthfully._

"_My daughter almost got killed because of you, kid," Neal's usually charismatic voice was blunt and cold. "You got her pulled into your mess. She almost died because of you."_

"_No," Luc shook his head, even though he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. "No. I know what you're trying to do, and it's not going to work! I'm not going to let you convince me that I should die. I don't deserve to die. You can't tell me otherwise!" he sounded a lot more sure than he actually was._

"_She was your responsibility that day that Matthew first saw her, Luc," Neal went on. "You should have protected her. You should have watched out for her. She can't take care of herself. That was your job. And you failed. But hey, that's what you do, isn't it?"_

"_Stop it," Luc said softly, guilt eating away at him. "Just stop it..."_

"_You fail, Luc," Neal kept talking, as if he had never spoken. "You fail at everything you do. You couldn't stop your dad from leaving you. You couldn't stop Matthew from murdering your mother and those agents. You couldn't even protect my baby girl from having to go through something like that again. You know what she's been through, Luc; hasn't she suffered enough?"_

"_Shut up!" Luc shouted, trying to shut the conman out. It didn't work. No matter what he did, Neal's voice echoed in his head._

"_And now you want to go back out there," Neal laughed humorlessly. "Why, Luc? What's your reasoning? Are you that selfish? You're so afraid of dying that you'll go back out there and keep ruining everyone else's lives?"_

"_I said shut up!" Luc cried, guilt clawing at his heart. Beside him, Shadow barked and clawed at the door. Luc got the hint and grabbed the handle._

_Suddenly, Neal appeared in front of him and shoved him, hard, onto the pavement. "Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"_

_Shadow growled and barked, biting into Neal's arm. The conman cried out. Taking the opportunity, Luc quickly got to his feet and dashed to the door, pulling it open and stepping through it. The teenager looked around, unsure where he was. Finally, he recognized his high school._

"_Oh, great, I'm in Hell," he groaned. When he looked down, he saw Shadow sitting beside him, looking up at him, his tail wagging._

"_Thanks, Shadow," Luc smiled. The dog simply sneezed in reply. Luc laughed, then started walking down the deserted hallway. At least he knew how to get out of this one._

_Or so he thought. When he turned the corner to where he thought the school's exit should have been, he saw only more hallway._

"_What the hell...?" Luc muttered. He looked behind him, in front of him, and down side halls that he was pretty sure didn't really exist, but he found no exit._

"_Oh, yeah, because God forbid we actually make it easy on the dying kid," Luc muttered. Shadow barked at him. "Yeah, yeah, I'm not going to die, I know, but that doesn't make me any less pissed."_

_Luc started to back track, trying to figure out where the exit was._

"_Hi, Luc," this voice made Luc's breath catch in his throat. It was a voice he never thought he'd hear again. Slowly, Luc turned around, and when he saw who was standing there, he felt a lump form in his throat._

"_Melissa," he choked. Melissa Brewer had been his best friend for most of his life, since he was about five. Seven months ago, she started to act strange. She was quiet, didn't want to go out much. Luc had tried to talk to her, but she shut him out. He had suspected it had something to do with her new boyfriend. Luc had never liked him. He always seemed too...controlling. But since Melissa wouldn't talk to him, he couldn't do anything about it._

_Three months after he noticed something different about her, her boyfriend dumped her. Luc tried to be there for her, but she didn't want to talk about it. Two weeks later, she overdosed on her mother's sleeping pills._

"_Yeah, Luc, it's me," Melissa confirmed._

"_No it's not," Luc shook his head, a tear escaping his eye. "It's not really you...it can't be..."_

"_It doesn't really matter, does it, Luc?" Melissa asked. "Either way, we both know why I'm here."_

"_Melissa..." Luc stared at her in disbelief. "I am so sorry..."_

"'_Sorry' doesn't bring me back, Luc!" Melissa snapped. "You knew. You _knew_ what he was doing to me, and you did nothing! You didn't even try to help me!"_

"_Yes I did," Luc denied, feeling himself start to approach his breaking point. Bringing Melissa into this was a low blow. "You wouldn't talk to me..."_

"_Yeah, well, I would have if I thought you were actually serious about helping!" Melissa shouted. "You were my best friend, Luc. You saw what was happening to me, what he was doing to me. You watched me die. You watched him kill me slowly, and you didn't lift a finger to stop it. You could have saved me, Luc. But you didn't, did you? Did you?"_

"_I tried..." Luc protested. "I tried to get you to talk to me. I tried to get you to come clean. I couldn't stop it if you wouldn't admit it! I can't tell you how many times I came so close to killing that sorry ass son of a bitch, but you just kept denying it..."_

"_But you knew it was true!" Melissa shrieked, her curly brown hair bouncing, her hazel eyes shining with rage. "You knew it all along! You could have told someone! You could have saved me! But you didn't! You let me die! You let him drive me to the edge! You let him push me around! Hell, if you had called me just a few minutes earlier say what you were going to that night, all those words that I had been waiting for you to say for so long, I might still be alive. You could have talked me off the ledge. But you didn't. You waited. And I died because of it."_

"_No..." Luc shook his head, backing up, not wanting to hear any more._

"_You let me down, Luc," Melissa's voice was cold and accusing. "You were my best friend. We swore to each other when we were six that we would always have each other's backs. Or did you forget all about that? You must have, because when I needed you the most, you were nowhere to be found."_

"_Stop!" Luc interrupted. "Please, just stop!"_

_Shadow barked beside him. Luc looked down at the dog and found him pawing at a door to his right. It looked like an ordinary classroom door._

_Luc looked at Melissa, his eyes full of sadness and regret, then yanked the door open and slipped through it..._


	21. Liar

**_Hey, guys. This chapter's kinda trippy. Let me know what you think. PS: I'm pretty sure this is the second-til-last chapter. Enjoy!_**

* * *

><p><em>Luc looked around him. It took him a moment to figure out where he was. When he finally recognized the place, he sighed. "Figures I'd end up back here," he muttered. He was standing in the middle of the room his uncle had held him in. Someone was sitting at the desk by the door.<em>

"_Great," Luc sighed. "Who's here to make me feel terrible now?"_

_The person in the chair turned around. Luc couldn't hide his surprise._

"_Hi, Luc," he smiled. The boy wore his face. It was him._

"_Oh come on," Luc protested. "What is this? __The Parent Trap__?"_

"_Very funny," the other Luc smiled. "Tell you the truth, I didn't think you'd make it this far."_

"_Happy to disappoint," Luc grinned. "Now if you could point me in the direction of the next random door, I'd like to get out of here."_

"_You know I can't do that," the other boy sighed, standing up. "Not yet."_

"_Ok, then," Luc nodded. "Let's hear it."_

"_You're lying to yourself if you think you really want to go back out there," Lucas told him._

"_Oh really?" Luc smirked._

"_Yeah," Lucas confirmed. "You are. Luc, you know that everything you've heard so far is true. You just couldn't admit it to yourself."_

"_You're wrong," Luc denied._

* * *

><p><strong>"I will not bow, I will not break, I will shut the world away. I will not fall, I will not fade, I will take your breath away..." -Breaking Benjamin, "I Will Not Bow"<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>And you're lying to yourself," Lucas said seriously. "Come on, man. You know it's true. You know that you were supposed to protect Mom and Collin. You know that you failed them. You know that you let your mother die. You also know that you were supposed to be watching out for Jessica that day, but you still let Matthew find out about her. You let him use her."<em>

* * *

><p><strong>"Sooner or later, you're gonna hate it. Go ahead and throw your life away. Drivin' me under, leavin' me out there, go ahead and throw your life away..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Sooner or Later"<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>You know that you weren't good enough to make your dad stay. You know that if you had made a better effort to help Melissa, she would be alive right now," Lucas told him. "Mom, Neal, Melissa...No one's telling you anything that you don't already know."<em>

"_It's not my fault," Luc said firmly, trying to convince himself as much as his double. Melissa had really weakened his resolve. He looked around for a place to run so he could move on to the next door._

* * *

><p><strong>"So fly away, and leave it behind. Just stay awake, there's nowhere to hide..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Away"<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Lucas smirked. "There's nowhere to run, Luc. Nowhere to hide. We're in your head. You can't escape us." He started walking toward his doppelganger, and Luc backed away. "Why don't you just admit what we both know is true?"<em>

"_And what is that?" Luc asked, already knowing the answer. His brain finally seemed to register that Shadow was missing. It was just him and his evil twin._

_Lucas smiled slightly. "You're weak. You can't protect anyone you love. You're worthless. You knew it as soon as David hit Anthony with that two-by-four, but honestly, I'm surprised it took you that long to figure it out. You fail no matter what your job is. You only cause pain to the ones around you. Now, tell me the truth. Am I wrong?"_

* * *

><p><strong>"All is lost again, but I'm not giving in..." -Breaking Benjamin, "I Will Not Bow"<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Luc opened his mouth to tell him he was wrong, but, slowly, he closed it again.<em>

_Lucas smiled. "I thought so. Follow me." Lucas started walking, and headed through the bedroom door and into the living room. Luc hesitated, then followed._

"_You have two choices, Luc," his doppelganger told him. "You can go through that door," he pointed to the front door, "and continue to screw everything up, or you can just let go, and take your chances."_

_Luc was silent, seriously considering his options._

"_And if that doesn't convince you, maybe this will," Lucas continued. "You sustained serious brain damage, here, dude. Something's gotta give. So for all you know, when you go back there, not only would you be screwing up everyone's lives, but you'd be doing it without even living to the fullest level. Is that really worth it?"_

"_How do I know you're not lying about that?" Luc demanded._

"_Luc, come on, I can't lie to you," Lucas rolled his eyes. "I'm part of you."_

* * *

><p><strong>"I'll shove your head under water, but I won't ever let you drown. No I won't ever let you down..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Water"<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Luc looked at the door, then at his doppelganger, and then back at the door, trying to make up his mind.<em>

"_So, Luc," Lucas spoke up. "What's it going to be?"_

_Luc was silent, the decision agonizing. Finally, he felt like his mind was made up..._

* * *

><p><strong>"I'll keep you inside. Where I lead you cannot follow. Straight into the light, as my breath grows still and shallow..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Into the Nothing"<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>I can't go back home, can I?" Luc asked softly.<em>

"_Not without leaving a trail of destruction wherever you go," Lucas told him sincerely._

"_So what do I do?" Luc hated to admit it, but now he was scared._

"_Just let go," Lucas said simply with a small smile. "Stop fighting. It'll be ok."_

* * *

><p>"Luc," Anthony gripped his son's hand tightly. He managed to make it through the night. Now all he had to do was wake up. "Luc, I don't know if you can hear me, but...I need you to wake up, Sport. Please...I can't lose you and your mother in the same month. I can't lose you, Luc...Please, <em>please<em> wake up...Please..."

* * *

><p><strong>"Come and take me over, welcome to the game. Will the current drag me down and carry me away? Suddenly the light begins to fade..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Hopeless"<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Luc heard every word. He and his doppelganger exchanged glances. As they locked eyes, Luc's weary, sad, hopeless expression suddenly became harder, stronger. Luc glared at his doppelganger defiantly.<em>

"_Liar."_

* * *

><p><strong>"I couldn't imagine why you would save yourself..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Skin"<strong>


	22. Moving On

_**Hey, guys! This is the last part. As promised, I've included a preview of my next idea. And yes, I left that loose end on purpose.**_

* * *

><p><em><em>"There's nothing left, so save your breath, lying in wait. Your cover's blown, no where to go, holding your fate..." -Breaking Benjamin, "Blow Me Away"<em>_

* * *

><p><em><em>The doctors were monitoring Luc's progress closely for several hours. They were amazed at how fast he was improving. Just seven hours after they almost lost him, he began to breathe on his own; he didn't need the breathing tube anymore. That was twelve hours ago. The sun had risen and set. Now Dr. Rhea was scribbling some orders for new medication on Luc's clipboard. Anthony was asleep, leaned forward, his head on the edge of the bed, still holding his son's hand.

The doctor was just about to leave when he noticed something that he never would have expected to happen. Luc's eyes were open.

"Luc?" the doctor was shocked. For a moment, he just stood there, but then he snapped out of it and made his way to Luc's side. He took a small pen light out of his pocket and shined it into the teen's eyes. Luc closed his eyes and groaned.

"Luc, can you hear me?" the doctor asked. Luc didn't respond.

"What's going on?" Anthony asked drowsily, opening his eyes and stretching.

"Luc's awake," Rhea told him. The news shocked Anthony wide awake.

"Luc?" Rhea's face was grim as he shouted at the teen. "Luc, can you hear me?"

The teenager groaned. "Barely," he muttered at last. "Why are you talking so quietly?"

Rhea let out a sigh, "Damn it."

"What's wrong with him?" Anthony asked, worried.

"We said to expect some brain damage," Rhea told him solemnly. "It looks like the damage is to his temporal lobe, which is responsible for processing sound."

"What are you guys saying?" Luc asked, his expression fearful and frustrated.

"What does that mean for him?" Anthony demanded.

Rhea hesitated. "It means that Luc has lost a good part of his hearing."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe we're actually here, Peter," Neal grumbled. "Why are we entertaining this lunatic?"<p>

Peter and Neal were sitting in a room at the local maximum security prison. Matt had been transferred there earlier in the week. The bastard had already pled guilty to the murders of Sasha Hale and the two FBI agents assigned to her protection detail. Now he was here to stand trial for everyone's kidnappings. He requested to meet with Peter and Neal before his hearing, though.

"Neal, Matt's on his way to the death penalty," Peter reminded him. "There's no harm in hearing what he has to say."

"Peter, this guy beat the crap out of me, kidnapped me, forced me to forge a painting for him, and made me help him steal the original. He also kidnapped my daughter and almost had her, Luc, and Collin killed. Excuse me if I'm not jumping up and down at the thought of having to see the bastard again," Neal was obviously itching to get out of there.

"We won't stay long," Peter promised. "Five minutes. Ok?"

Neal hesitated, still obviously not thrilled. Finally, he sighed. "Fine. Five minutes," he agreed. Peter nodded. A heartbeat later, a guard brought Matt in. The murderer was shackled hand and foot. Peter and Neal looked on in silence as the guard sat him down at the table in the center of the room. There was a pause.

"Aren't you going to tell this guy to take these things off me?" Matt asked with a charismatic smile, holding up his hands and jingling the cuffs. Neal actually laughed out loud.

"Hell no," The conman obviously found his request amusing. Matt shrugged.

"Why are we here, Matt?" Peter asked.

"What, no pleasantries?" Matt almost sounded hurt.

"Why, Matt?" Peter pressed, his expression serious.

"How's Luc?" Matt asked, seeming to dance around the subject. "I heard you finally found him. I also heard that he got shot and fell into a coma, but..."

"Get to the point, or we're leaving," Peter said firmly.

"I just wanted to check in with you guys," Matt was really only looking at Neal when he spoke, "see how you guys are doing."

"We're fine," Neal said curtly.

"That's good to hear," Matt smiled. "You know, Peter," the killer sighed, turning his attention to the FBI agent. "When I was hanging out with Neal before, he warned me that no matter what I did or where I went, you would find me and catch me."

"He was right," Peter pointed out.

"He was," Matt nodded in agreement. "I did a little research on you, Peter. From what I read...it's no wonder Neal respects you so much. You are a worthy opponent indeed, and one that I was a fool to underestimate. But I won't make that mistake twice. Next time around, I'll be ready, and I'll win."

"You're headed for death row, Matt," Neal spoke up, taking an obvious satisfaction in that fact. "There is no next time."

"Oh, quite the contrary, Neal," Matt smiled. "This is far from over. Death row? It's just an obstacle that I will overcome. And when I do," he turned and looked Peter in the eye, "I will take an unbelievable amount of pleasure in defeating you this time around."

"Is that a threat?" Peter asked, seeming indifferent either way.

"No," Matt shook his head with a smile. "That's a promise, Peter. That is a promise."

"Get him out of here," Peter ordered the guard standing by the door. Dutifully, the guard grabbed Matt's arm and pulled him toward the door. The murderous art thief stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at Neal.

"Hey, Neal," he grinned smugly, "say hi to little Jessi for me, ok? You know, I think she's going to grow up to be a really, really pretty girl. Just like her mother. She's quite the talented child; a master of all things art and merciless on the soccer field. I can't wait to see her again."

Each word cranked Neal's anger level up a notch, until he couldn't take it anymore. The conman closed the distance between him and Matt in just three strides.

"Neal," Peter warned. It was too late. Neal grabbed two fistfuls of Matt's orange jumpsuit and shoved him into the concrete wall behind him. The guard who was holding Matt's arm simply let him go and stood back, obviously thinking Matt had it coming. Peter had to agree.

"Ok, let's get something straight," Neal growled through clenched teeth. "If you get anywhere within a five mile radius of my little girl or Rebecca, I will personally see to it that your body is never found. Do you understand me?"

"Neal," Peter was at his friend's side now, a firm hand on his shoulder as Matt grinned and chuckled, apparently unafraid. "He's not worth it. Let it go." Neal would not back down. "Neal. Walk away, come on," Peter said, a little more forcefully. Finally, Neal slowly let Matt go, and the guard escorted the murderer back to his cell.

"Hey, you ok?" Peter asked his friend, concerned.

"Yeah," Neal sighed grudgingly. "But I'll tell you one thing: I'm not gonna sleep well at night until that bastard gets the needle."

"Me either," Peter admitted. He studied the consultant before him for a moment, then nodded in the direction of the open door. "Come on. Let's go."

Neal nodded, and the two of them made their way back out into the free world...

* * *

><p><em>Two months later...<em>

* * *

><p>Luc sat at his desk at the bank, doing some computer maintenance as a favor to one of his coworkers. The bank had valued him so much in DC that when he moved to New York, they offered him a position in their New York branch. He was supposed to head home an hour ago, and outside, night had long-since fallen, but his friend couldn't work until Luc finished the job, so there he was.<p>

"Luc," the teen's boss, Justin Krew, came walking towards him. Luc didn't even react. He had been outfitted with a hearing aid after he left the hospital, but it really didn't do much to help him. He mostly had to rely on reading lips, a skill he had learned quickly after he got home.

Justin remembered Luc's hearing problem and prodded the young man's shoulder. Luc tore his gaze away from the screen and looked up at him.

"Luc, go home," Justin ordered. "It's getting late."

"No, I'm ok," Luc protested. "It's just Patrick really needs me to finish up here before he can get back to work."

"I'll have Adam finish up tomorrow morning before Patrick gets in," Justin assured him. "Come on, I'll walk you out."

Luc hesitated, then nodded in agreement and grabbed his coat. He and Justin walked together until they had to go their separate ways three blocks later. From there, Luc carried on alone. He was headed home to his father's apartment, where his family—his little brother and the father he never thought would come home—was waiting for him. The idea was still foreign to him. And he could not fully enjoy it because of one person: Matt. Until that psychopath was dead, he would never be able stop looking over his shoulder. Until that psychopath was dead, he would never be able to truly move on. Unfortunately, it would be several months before this would happen. Waiting for Matt to get to the end of death row would be the death of him.

Luc sighed as he entered his apartment building. Oh well. Sleep was for the weak anyway, right? It was time to move on as best he could. There was no point in worrying about a man who was locked away in a prison. He had his father and his brother, which was more than he thought he'd have for a while there. He was alive and more or less well. How could he complain?

Luc pressed the button on the elevator that would bring him to the third floor. This was a new chapter for him. He hoped to God that it wouldn't be nearly as eventful as the last one was. Luc stepped off the elevator and made his way to the apartment. He pulled his key from his pocket and unlocked the door, then stepped inside...

* * *

><p>The End.<p>

* * *

><p><strong><em>Curiosity Killed the Cat Preview:<em>**

Neal walked into his apartment with a weary sigh, his mail in one hand, his coat in the other. It was dark outside his window. He was exhausted. He had had a fight with Peter before he left the office. Peter had misplaced his wallet, and for some reason, he got the idea into his head that Neal had taken it. He could be so prejudiced sometimes.

The conman flipped through the stack of mail as he got himself a glass of water and tossed his phone onto the table. Most of it was junk, but one thing stuck out. It was a plain white envelope. Neal's address was written on it in block letters, but there was no return address. Curious, he opened the envelope and took out its contents: a page-long letter.

_Dear Mr. Caffrey,  
>I have to say, it's a great thrill to finally communicate with you. I have followed your work closely. I am quite the fan of yours, to tell you the truth.<em>

As Neal read the letter, he began to feel strange. His fingertips were tingling, and his heart was beginning to race. He took a drink of his water, shrugged it off, and kept reading.

_I think that it's time we meet. We could do so many great things, you and I. You may not see it now, but you will. Soon._

Neal was having trouble catching his breath. He began to see double. His hands were trembling. He knew something was wrong. But he couldn't stop himself from reading on.

_I'll keep this short, since I'm sure that by now, the poison I laced this paper with has begun to soak into your bloodstream. It may have even started to take effect already. Don't worry, Neal, you won't die. You'll just be unconscious for several hours, more than enough time for me to get you out of there. I'm sure you're starting to regret opening this letter. I hope that after we meet you'll change your opinion. But in the mean time, you know what they say..._

Neal's vision swam. He dropped his water. The glass shattered into countless pieces on the floor, and water went everywhere. He saw his cell phone on the table, and went for it. He stumbled, catching himself on the edge of the table, and snatched up the phone. There was no time to call Peter. Nine. His hand was shaking so badly, he was afraid he'd misdial and waste precious time, time that he was sure he didn't have. One. Suddenly, his legs couldn't seem to support his weight anymore. He fell to the floor, dropping the paper and his phone. He watched helplessly as the phone, his only hope of saving himself, skidded from his grasp and slid under the fridge, out of sight. Seconds later, he was completely unconscious.

_...curiosity killed the cat._


End file.
